MARY  BARKER, 


THRILLING   NARRATIVE 


OF 


EARLY    LIFE 


IN 


NORTH     CA.ROLINA. 


1 1  CHARACTERS  : 

lyiARY  BARKER;  TONLIN,  the  Chief's  Son; 

VELNA,  the  Chief's  Daughter:  GATLIN,  the  Renegade.  I 


BY 

CHARLIE    VERNON, 

(SECOND  EDITION.) 


RALEIGH,  N.  C. 

BRANSON     &     FARRAR,    FATETTEVILLE   ST., 

1865. 


V,^ 


MARY  BARKEE, 


BY 


CHABLIE   YERNON./f -^0 


[SECOND    EDITION 


P.ALEIGH,  N.  C. 

BEANSON     «fe     FAREAR,    FATETTEVILLE    ST., 

1865. 


COPY   RIGHT   SECURED    ACCORDING    TO    LAW. 


"DAILY  STANDARD"  PRINT. 


MARY  BARKER. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Dusky  Dell,  the  name  given  to  my  father's  resi- 
dence,  is  the  strangest,  most  weird  and  ghost-hke 
place  to  be  found  in  Randolph  county.  The  loca- 
tion is  in  a  valley  enclosed  by  steep,  rugged  hills ; 
up  the  little  stream  is  a  dark  pine  forest,  that  per- 
petually sends  a  melancholy  moaning  along  the 
hills  like  some  wailing  spirit,  seeking  rest  and  find- 
ing none  ;  down  the  valley  is  an  extensive  view  of 
rolling  country,  covered  with  a  low,  scraggy,  copse- 
wood,  having  an  occasional  pine  tree,  that  in  the 
dusk  of  evening  looks  like  some  dark-robed  spirit 
meditating  evil.  The  place  is  not  without  a  cer- 
tain species  of  beauty,  but  it  is  a  beauty  so  spec- 
.tral  and  unearthly,  that  it  has  no  gladness  in  it. 
Then  the  house  adds  to  the  sombre,  haunted,  dreary 
aspect  of  the  scene.  It  is  a  large  old-fashioned 
establishment,  begun  long  before  the  Revolution, 
and  apparently  not  finished  yet.  Some  chimnies 
are  stone,  some  are  brick  ;  one  part  of  the  house 
is  made  of  logs,  another  is  framed  and  ceiled,  and 


0  MARY     BARKER. 

ral  large  upland  streams,  preductive  agriculturally, 
remote  from  cities  and  railroads,  it  is  peculiarly 
adapted  to  grave  and  mysterious  reflection.  The 
early  history  of  the  county  was  full  of  stirring 
events,  and  many  of  these  still  linger  in  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  people  as  rare,  rich  old  legends.  My 
old  uncle,  the  finest  specimen  of  a  past  generation, 
was  the  oracle  of  the  section  in  which  he  lived. 
He  gave  us  the  following,  which  in  its  essential 
facts  is  known  to  be  true  : 

A  company  of  young  people  had  been  having  a 
rather  merry  time,  and  were  just' at  dusk  laughing 
at  some  local  traditions,  when  the  said  "  old  uncle," 
coming  up,  bade  us  be  quiet  and  come  into  the 
house,  as  something  strange  was  about  to  happen. 

"  Come,  come,  uncle,"  we  replied,  "  our  college 
life  has  raised  us  above  these  follies." 

"Follies,  a  fiddle-stick,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
somewhat  testily,  "  listen  to  sound  sense,  and  guide 
your  learning  by  good  old  experience." 

"  But,  uncle,  you  do  not  believe  that  chickens 
know  any  thing  about  coming  events,  or  that  half 
these  old  tales  told  and  believed  in  this  section  are 
true  ?" 

"  Faith  !  but  1  know  chickens  do  just  what  God 
made  them  to  do,  and  when  they  act  in  an  un- 
usual way,  it  is  because  something  unusual  is  on 
foot." 

"  But,  these  old  tales,  do  you  believe  them,  do 
you  not  think  they  are  fictions?" 


MAEY     BARKER. 


"  Every  one  is  founded  in  fact.  For  instance, 
the  story  of  Mary  Barker  is  in  all  essentials  true. 
The  Cravens,  the  Barkers,  Gatlins,  &c.,  are  well 
known,  some  of  the  persons  mentioned  in  the  story 
are  yet  remembered.  Then  the  localities  are  as 
well  known  as  any  places  can  be." 

"Well,  uncle,  tell  us  that  history  to-night,  as 
some  of  our  party  never  heard  it." 

Having  assented  to  our  proposition,  the  old  gen- 
tleman gave  us  the  following,  only  his  eloquent 
manner  was  beyond  the  power  of  our  prose  de- 
scription : 

"  When  my  father  first  came  to  this  country,  he 
settled  near  Deep  river,  about  twelve  miles  east  of 
Asheboro',  in  Kandolph  county,  as  it  is  now  called  ; 
there  were  no  other  settlers  within  twenty  miles, 
except  three  families,  and  they  were  within  two 
miles.  We  had  no  mills  nor  meeting  houses,  nor 
any  thing  except  four  good  log  cabins,  a  few 
horses,  cows,  hogs,  &c.  About  the  middle  of  the 
neighborhood  we  made  a  large  pile  of  wood,  with 
the  agreement  that  whenever  the  Indians  should 
be  seen  in  or  about  the  settlement,  that  whoever 
saw  them  should  as  soon  as  possible  set  fire  to  the 
pile  as  a  warning  to  all.  This  little  precaution 
having  been  taken,  all  went  to  work  to  clear  fields, 
build  stables  and  arrange  whatever  might  be 
necessary.  Tilings  had  thus  progressed  for  more 
than  eighteen  months,  when  my  brother  in  passing 
near  the  pile  met  a  strange  white  man,  who  seemed 
a4 


.*^ 


8 


MARY    BARKER. 


very  friendly,  and  asked  a  great  many  questions, 
but  would  give  no  account  of  himself  as  to  his  name 
or  destination.  The  occurrence  was  soon  known 
over  the  neighborhood  and  occasioned  considera- 
ble uneasiness,  and  the  same  evening  it  was  parti- 
cularly noticed  that  the  chiclcens  crowed  upon  the 
roost  throughout  the  settlement.  About  an  hour 
after  dark  my  sister  ran  into  the  house  with  the 
terrible  news  that  the  pile  was  on  fire  ;  instantly 
all  the  doors  were  boiled  and  propped,  and  my 
father  took  his  station  in  front  in  order  to  fire  the 
alarm  gun  if  an  Indian  should  be  seen  about  the 
house ;  having  held  his  gun  for  some  time,  and 
becoming  weary,  he  tore  off  some  hooks  from  the 
wall  and  nailed  them  over  the  door  to  lay  his  gun 
upon,  and  this  was  the  origin  of  gun-racks  over  the 
door.  Prior  to  this  time  houses  had  latches  on  the 
outside,  but  they  were  now  placed  within,  with  a 
string  attached,  in  order  that  the  inmates  might  be 
apprised  if  an  enemy  secretly  attempted  to  gain 
admission.  During  all  that  night  we  kept  watch, 
but  no  Indian  was  heard ;  in  the  morning  search 
was  made  but  no  enemy  could  be  found ;  a  deep 
calamity,  however,  had  fallen  upon  the  neighbor^ 
hood ;  Mrs.  Mary  Barker,  the  wife  of  one  of  the 
settlers  was  gone ;  not  a  vestige  of  her  departure 
could  be  obtained.  In  the  early  part  of  the  night 
she  was  with  her  husband  in  the  house,  qjpout  mid' 
night  her  absence  was  discovered,  but  no  window, 
door,  nor  other  means  of  escape  could  be  found  by 


t*^-^ 


MAEY    BARKEE.  P 

which  she  seemed  to  have  gone  out.  The  family 
coDsisted  of  herself,  two  sisters,  three  small  children 
and  her  husband ;  Mrs.  Barker  was  a  woman  of 
more  than  ordinary  strength  of  body  as  well  as 
courage  of  mind,  and  was  not  only  the  life  ot  her 
own  home,  but  of  the  entire  settlement.  The  in- 
telligence of  her  absence  fell  like  thunder  upon  the 
astonished  neighbors,  a  deep  gloom  rested  upon 
every  thing,  the  rain-crows  cawed  in  the  tree  tops, 
and  the  chiekena  crowed  with  a  peculiar  loneliness. 
A  short  distance  from  the  house  one  of  Mrs. 
Barker's  shoes  was  found,  close  by  it  a  bloody 
handkerchief,  different  from  any  thing  known  in 
the  settlement,  and  a  few  yards  farther  on,  a  letter 
from  a  merchant  of  Philadelphia  to  Wm.  Gatlia 
of  Jamestown,  Va.  Except  the  above  not  a  trace, 
trail,  track,  nor  sign  of  any  description  could  be 
found,  all  hope  of  recovering  the  lost  lady  was 
given  up. 

That  evening  as  John  Barker  and  Peter  Craven, 
were  returning  from  a  search,  and  within  two  miles 
of  home,  just  as  they  were  crossing  a  braach  at  the 
upper  part  of  a  plantation  now  owned  by  Jnmes 
Curtis,  they  distinctly  heard  a  female  voice  cry  out, 
"Oh!  my  husband  and  my  children."  Alarmed 
and  excited,  they  searched  in  every  direction,  but 
could  neither  see  nor  hear  anything.  They  at 
length  sat  out  for  home,  hardly  knowing  what  to 
think  or  how  to  act,  and  not  a  little  inclined  to 
think  the  whole  land  haunted.  But  before  they 
a5 


% 


MAEY    BARKEfi. 


fiad  proceeded  far,  and  near  what  is  now  called 
the  "cross  road  school-house,"  Craven  stopped 
short  with  the  exclamation,  "What's  that!"  Di- 
rectly in  the  road  before  them  stood  a  tall  Indian 
with  Mrs.  Barker  by  his  side.  "  My  God  !"  ex- 
claimed Barker,  and  instantly  fired  at  the  Indian's 
heart,  and  both  ran  forward  to  rescue  the  lady. 
Horror  struck,  the  blood  chilled  in  their  veins, 
they  stopt  short,  neither  of  them  able  to  speak  nor 
move.  Neither  Indian  nor  lady  was  there,  nor 
were  they  any  where  to  be  seen ;  though  dusk, 
yet  could  they  see  sufficiently  well  to  know  that 
no  mortals  could  have  escaped  thus.  They  were 
convinced  at  once  that  it  was  the  ghost  of  Mrs. 
Barker,  and  that  in  all  probability,  she  was  that 
very  evening  dying  by  Indian  torture  ;  for  accor- 
ding to  a  popular  belief  that  prevailed  at  that  day, 
the  ghost  of  a  person  might  always  be  seen  about 
the  time  of  the  person's  death ;  nor  has  the  belief 
subsided  yet,  many  are  afraid  to  travel  about  at 
night  where  there  is  a  corpse  in  the  neighborhood ; 
they  scarcely  know  why,  but  the  reason  is  evident. 
Formerly  it  was  believed  that  on  such  occasions 
ghosts  were  sure  to  be  met,  and  though  that  belief 
is  no  longer  indulged,  fear,  the  effect  of  the  belief, 
still  reigns. 

Before  Barker  and  Craven  had  proceeded  three 
hundred  yards,  down  in  a  low  and  rather  dark 
valley,  they  were  alarmed  or  rather  scared  worse 
than  ever,  for  there  stood  the  Indian  and  lady  be- 


MAEY    BARKER,  11 


~l 


fore  them ;  they  attempted  to  go  round,  but  whea 
they  moved  the  ghosts  moved,  and  when  one  8toj)-| 
ped  so  did  the  other.     At  length  Craven  reool- 
Ifected,  that  if  one  could  repeat  a  verse  of  scripture 
the  ghost  would  leave  ;  he  accordingly  repeated 
one  and  the  Indian  and  lady  vanished  away.  These 
things  convinced  all  the  settlers  that  Mrs.  Barker^ 
was  murdered,  and  every  man,  woman  and  child  j^ 
learned  and  had  perfectly  at  command  a  verse  of 
sfcripture,  with  which    they    might    drive    away., 
gliosts,  if  at  any  time  they  should  see   one.     Fou* 
many  years  after  that  time,  a  lady  could  be  heard 
calling  to  her  husband  and  children,   whenever, 
any  one  crossed  that  branch  about  dark,  and  slu.^ 
Indian  and  white  lady  have  often  been  seen  stand- 
ing in  the  road  a  mile  further  on,  ^ 
Peter  Craven  was  in  a  superstitious  communitj^ 
and  lived  in  a  superstitious  era ;  he  possessed  a 
rough,  stony,  uncultivated  mind,  and  was  by  no 
means,  disposed  to  oe  led  captive  by  every  foolish 
or  whimsical  idea  ;  though  he  might  listen  to  reason 
and  might  yield  to  plain,  common   sense  sugges-  . 
tions,  he  was  not  disposed  to  yield  to  what  weaker r* 
minds  might  term  good  arguments.     This  charac-r* 
teristic  of  his  influenced  the  further  experiments 
upon  the  cross-road  ghosts.     The  fogs   of  excite-- 
ment  having  cleared  away  during  a  night's  sleep^,^^ 
Craven's  first  words  to  John  Barker  and  William 
Allen  on  the  next  morning  were : — *'  Well,  do  you 
think  them  were  real  ghosts  ?" 
a6 


i¥ 


MART    BARKER. 


^*^Ko  doubt  of  it,"  said  Allen,  "its  jist  like  Vre 
hearn  my  father  tell  a  thousand  times.  Why  I  in 
Ireland,  I  can  tell  thee,  ghosts  are  seen  in  the  dusk 
of  evening  almost  as  thick  as  bats." 

"  Yes,"  said  Barker,  "  and  once  I  was  Crossing 
the  great  bogs  of  Munster  in  Ireland,  near  lake 
Killarney  not  far  from  the  very  head  spring  of  the 
Lee,  as  I  Was  passing  the  Little  Neck  about  day- 
light-down, in  the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  thirty-one,  when  Walpole,  in 
the  reign  of  George  the  second,  was  punishing^ 
George  Eobinson  for  separating  unto  his  own  us^ 
the  money  of  the  Char  at  able  Coblporation,  righjt 

under  a  • 'twas  an  alder  I  believe  ;  well  right 

there  with  these  very  eyes,  as  plain,  as  daylight  in 
the  fifth  month  where  there  is  not  a  cloud  to  h^ 
Been,  right  there  I  saw  my  own  dear  father,  one  of 
the  best  men  in  Ireland^  and  a  long  tried  member 
of  the  society  of  friends  ^  I  saw  him  riding  his  own 
fifle  bay  horso,  that  was  coked  by  the  animal  my 
mother  inherited  from  my  uncle  James.  O  he 
was  a  splendid  horse ;  under  the  saddle  all  Hfe,  in 
the  gear  all  gentleness  ;  well,  my  father  was  riding 
that  horse  with  a  large  hog  across  before  him.  No 
sooner  did  I  see  him  than  he  stopped,  put  his  hand 
into  his  bosom,  pulled  out  his  heart  and  offered  it 
to  me.  Horrified,  I  ran  to  him  and  just  as  I 
reached  forth  my  hand  to  touch  him  he  vanished 
away.  I  knew  wbat  it  meant  and  hastened  home, 
and  when  I  got  there,  what  I  expected  was  toa 


"  MARY    BAKKER.  13 

true  ;  ray  father  was  dead  ;  a  large  hog  had  killed 
him,  and  torn  hiK  heart  loose  from  his  body ;  and 
now  friends,  I  tell  yon,  I  know  my  wife  Mary  is 
dead,  an  Indian  has  killed  her,  I  see  it,  I  feel  it,  I 
know  it." 

"  Ah  I "  exclaimed  Allen,  "  what  is  to  be 
will    be." 

"  But,"  said  Craven,  "  I  can't  understand  how 
it  is  after  all ;  suppose  an  Indian  had  killed  her, 
why  should  her  spirit  come  back,  or  if  hers 
came,  why  did  the  Indian's  come,  unless  he  also 
has  died?" 

"  Man's  wisdom,"  said  Barker,  "  is  as  foolishness 
when  such  things  are  to  be  considered.  But  it's 
strange  somehow  or  other,  I  noticed  that  very  same 
chicken  on  that  pole  crowing  yesterday,  and  now 
he's  at  it  again  ;  I  don't  like  it,  it  means  something 
of  no  good." 

Every  thing  passed  on  after  this  as  usual ;  in  a 
few  days  the  great  pile  of  wood  was  rebuilt,  the 
houses  were  made  a  little  stronger,  and  every 
Deeessary  precaution  that  epuld  be  supposed  of 
use,  was  attended  to, 

On  the  next  Sunday,  the  chickens  perched  upon 
the  fences  crowed  all  day  long;  after  going  to 
roost,  they  crowed  with  peculiar  sadness,  until  a 
h'ght  larger  than  a  torch  was  seen  by  two  of  the 
families,  when  instantly  all  the  crowing  ceased. 
The  light  when  first  seen  was  about  the  middle  of 
the  river,  and  seemed  to  be  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 


14  MARY    BARKER* 

high';  after  remaining  there  a  short  time,  it  inoved 
sloWly  to  the  bank  in  a  wavering  Hne.  Two  or 
three  yonng  men  started  to  it  J  before  they  could 
arrive  at  the  point  the  light  Was  crossing  a  creek ; 
eager  to  overtake,  for  the  light  moved  slowly,  they 
rushed  through  the  water  and  continued  to  pursue* 
Onward  they  went,  through  bamboo  briars,  poison 
vines  and  every  imaginable  obstruction ;  all  feaf^ 
all  thoughts  of  bear,  panther  or  lurking  Indian 
were  forgotten,  their  excitement  increased  as  they 
proceeded,  and  their  hearts  exulted  with  the  deter- 
mination to  see  what  the  light  was.  In  the  course 
of  a  half  hour,  they  came  to  a  strange  creek,  one 
they  had  never  seen  before,  though  well  acquainted 
in  that  direction.  What  added  no  little  to  their 
astonishment  was,  that  the  stream  ran  in  the  wrong 
direction;  the  creek  they  had  crossed  first,  and 
with  which  they  were  well  acquainted,  ran  to  the 
left,  but  they  now  approached  one  that  was  moving 
sluggishly  to  the  right ;  they  knew  also  that  they 
could  not  possibly  be  very  far  from  the  river,  and 
how  the  creek  could  be  running  directly  from  it 
they  could  not  imagine.  They  wished  now  to  stop, 
but  found  it  impossible,  a  strange  power  drew  them 
onward  ;  nor  were  they  able  to  turn  their  backs 
to  the  light.  For  many  hours  they  followed  on 
through  briar  thickets,  across  creeks,  and  over 
worse  places  than  they  had  ever  seen  before.  At 
last  the  light  stopped  over  a  house  which  they  at 
once  recognized  to  be  John  Barker's.    The  light 


MARY     BARKEE.  l5 

turned  to  the  shape  of  a  boy  and  went  npwards 
out  of  flight.  Arousing  Barker's  family,  one  of 
his  children  was  missing,  it  had  gone  to  bed  with 
the  other  one,  but  was  now  absent. 


CHAPTER   II. 

The  consternation  and  grief  of  Barker,  and  in- 
deed of  the  whole  neighborhood,  was  immense, 
when  it  became  evident  that  little  Enoch  Barker 
was  gone.  After  careful  search  in  all  directions, 
after  continuing  the  search  for  several  days,  and 
after  trying  every  possible  means  of  detecting  any 
imposition,  all  hope  was  given  over.  The  tone  of 
the  community  changed  ;  the  light  laugh  that  for- 
merly rang  clear  upon  the  evening  air,  the  rustic 
song  that  once  made  the  fields  resound,  were 
hushed ;  the  shrill  whistle  that  in  days  gone  by 
had  beguiled  the  slow  moving  hours  as  the  plough 
boy  pursued  his  daily  task,  was  heard  no  more. 
The  inhabitants  had  vague  suspicions  that  in  this 
wild,  unexplored  land,  some  evil  spirits  might 
carry  off  people  soul,  body  and  all  together  ;  they 
thought  it  might  be  possible  that  they  were  tres- 
passing upon  the  rightful  domain  of  the  Red  man  ; 
that  the  great  Spirit  might  avenge  the  people  of 
his  care  by  destroying  the  aggressors.     While  in 


li  MARY    BARltER. 

this  doubtful  condition,  this  suspense  that  kills,  the 
high  blazing  of  the  great  wood-pile  in  the  dead  of 
night  again  startled  their  wildest  apprehensions  5 
every  one  kept  his  wife  and  children  in  some  cor- 
ner. The  fear  of  the  Indians  was  at  an  end  ;  no 
one  barred  his  door,  none  now  stood  with  rifle  in 
hand  ;  all  looked  to  see  the  dark  paw  of  the  Indian 
god  reached  forth  to  grab  a  loved  child ;  as  each 
one  peered  into  the  surrounding  darkness  he  ex- 
pected to  see  the  glaring  eye-balls  of  Whor  gleam- 
ing with  fury,  and  eager  for  human  victims.  At 
this  juncture  loud  cries  and  screams  were  heard  in 
the  direction  of  Barker's.  The  hair  of  the  stoutest 
men  stood  upright,  their  flesh  twitched  convul- 
sively ;  the  women  were  hushed  in  terror,  and  the 
children  scarcely  drew  breath.  Every  man  felt 
that  he  ought  to  rush  to  the  relief  of  his  neighbor  ; 
their  blood  froze  at  the  probable  fate  of  the  Barker 
family;  yet  who  could  go?  Who  could  leave  his 
own  family  exposed  to  some  dread  danger,  in  order 
to  protect  another?  In  fact,  who  could  muster 
courage  enough  to  go  a  mile  through  dark  woods 
on  such  a  night  ?  But  now  a  t orritic  explosion  at 
the  great  burning  pile  made  the  very  earth  quiver, 
and  sent  the  burning  limbs  and  sticks  to  the  vault 
of  heaven  ;  then  followed  such  an  unearthly  howl- 
ing, groaning  and  squalling,  as  if  all  the  fiends  and 
elves  in  the  universe  were  croaking  the  prelude  of 
destruction.  What  that  explosion  could  be  no 
mortal  in  that  community  could  tell ;  the  sound 


MARY    BARKER.  17 

and  the  effect  were  like  powder,  but  nothing  short 
of  a  whole  keg  was  adequate,  and  that  quantity  of 
powder  was  not  in  the  settlement.  All  at  once 
concluded  that  it  must  be  the  work  of  the  Devil, 
and  that  the  horrific  noise  that  followed  was  the 
wailing  of  the  lost.  The  three  families — for  there 
were  but  three  besides  the  Barkers— started  as  if 
by  concert  all  together,  women,  children  and  all. 
They  all  arrived  near  the  same  time,  and  found 
Barker  find  the  two  sisters  of  his  wife  in  the  house, 
but  so  terrified  that  they  were  well  nigh  crazed. 
The  other  two  children  were  gone.  They  both 
stepped  out  of  the  house,  one  scream  was  heard, 
father  and  aunts  dashed  to  the  door  only  to  see 
them  borne  off  by  a  nameless  monster,  that  seemed 
to  be  neither  man,  brute  nor  devil.  It  seemed  to 
be  a  huge  something  with  several  human  heads,  in 
each  of  which  were  two  eyes  that  glared  like  balls 
of  fire  ;  it  had  several  tails,  on  each  of  which  blue 
blazes  were  burning;  it  had  apparently  about  fifty 
long  legs  armed  with  nails  like  scythe  blades,  and 
these  legs  it  could  make  longer  or  shorter  at  pleas- 
ure, so  that  it  could  stand  off  entirely  out  of  sight, 
and  poke  in  its  paw  at  a  window  or  down  a  chim- 
ney and  drag  out  a  child  or  even  a  man.  Finally, 
it  had  large  wings,  and  after  holding  up  the  chil- 
dren in  its  great  scaly  clutches,  pushing  them  close 
to  their  parent  and  then  pulling  them  back  several 
times,  it  rose  up,  and,  flapping  its  horrid  wings 
with  a  low  moaning  sound,  sailed  off  towards  the 


18  MART    BARKER. 

river.  Barker  and  the  two  women  were  stupefied 
and  benumbed  by  a  strange  sensation,  their  heads 
swam,  their  sight  grew  dim,  their  power  of  hear- 
ing was  nearly  destroyed,  and  in  this  state  they 
were  by  something,  they  knew  not  what,  carried 
into  the  house.  The  doors  seemed  to  slam  to,  of 
their  own  accord,  the  fire  went  out,  the  gun,  hang- 
ing upon  the  door,  fired  with  a  heavy  boom,  the 
dog  ran  and  hallooed,  a  heavy  rattling  of  chains 
was  heard  without,  and  a  strong  stench  of  sulphur 
became  suflfocating.  In  a  short  time  the  neighbors 
arrived,  and  found  the  scared  trio  as  above  named ; 
they  could  tell  the  circumstances  as  just  related, 
but  they  had  heard  no  persons  screaming,  they 
knew  not  how  the  water-pail  came  to  be  in  the  fire- 
place, nor  how  the  numerous  fires  about  the  yard 
came  to  be  there. 

All  were  alarmed,  every  one  thought  that  such 
things  were  most  certainly  the  work  of  demons, 
or  awful  judgments  sent  from  God  as  marks  of  his 
displeasure.  The  whole  community,  numbering 
only  eighteen  persons,  went  to  Peter  Craven's  to 
spend  the  night.  None,  however,  thought  of  sleep- 
ing ;  sleep  w^as  as  far  from  their  eye-lids,  as  they 
were  from  knowing  how  to  act  in  their  present 
circumstances.  They  knew  not  how  to  act  or  how 
to  protect  themselves  from  a  monster  that  seemed 
proof  against  all  ordinary  modes  of  protection ; 
they  had  reasons  to  expect  that  the  winged  fiend 
would  drag  some  of  them  up  the  chimney,  or  per- 


MART     BARKER.  19 

haps  pull  them  through  the  key  hole.  All  were 
afraid  to  sit  next  the  wall,  across  the  house  or  next 
the  fire ;  they  were  afraid  to  go  to  bed,  and  afraid 
to  sit  up.  If  the  house  creaked,  a  foot  moved,  or 
the  fire  popped,  all  jumped  and  repeated  verses  of 
scripture. 

Towards  day  Barker  rose  and  said  :  "Friends,  I 
was  one  of  the  first  to  propose  coming  here,  I  loved 
the  thoughts  of  being  far  in  a  wild  country,  where 
the  foolish  ways  of  worldly-minded  men  would  not 
disturb  me.  I  thought  the  hand  of  our  great  Crea- 
tor was  every  where  to  protect,  but  either  he  has 
no  power  here,  or  I  have  greatly  oflfended  him. 
My  wife  is  gone,  my  children  are  gone,  and  it 
seems  probable  that  I  must  follow.  I  now  propose 
to  return  to  Pennsylvania,  the  land  of  my  fathers; 
there  I  know  the  Lord  of  mercy  resides.  Let  us 
pack  up  our  goods,  it  is  now  the  middle  of  Spring, 
and  we  can  reach  our  native  country  in  time  to 
plant  a  sufficient  crop." 

Barker  sat  down  ;  a  deep  silence  prevailed  for 
some  time;  all  were  thinking,  but  none  seemed 
willing  to  speak.  Finally,  a  very  timid  youth  by 
the  name  of  Spinks,  arose  and  said  :  "  Most  of  you 
are  older  than  myself;  I  speak  not  to  influence 
you,  but  I  can  tell  you  what  I  am.  I  came  here 
trusting  in  God,  and  all  the  many-headed,  burning- 
tailed,  limber- clawed,  bla-ck-winged  devils  in  crea- 
tion can't  scare  me  away.  Great  evil  has  come 
upon  us,  but  I  don't  believe  God's  to  blame  ;  I  tell 


20  MARY     BARKER. 

you,  some  wicked,  soulless  rascals  are  engaged  in 
this  work  ;  and  if  you  will  all  stand  up  to  me,  I'll 
kill  the  whole  pack,  or  if  I  don't,  the  flying  fiend 
is  welcome  to  my  bones."  Raising  himself  to  the 
highest  pitch,  with  an  eye  and  voice  that  made  the 
whole  group  quake,  he  exclaimed,  "  in  the  name 
of  God  and  the  Holy  Prophets,  I  dare,  threaten 
and  defy  Indians,  ghosts,  satan  and  all  other  wick- 
ed spirits  of  every  grade  and  station.  If  every 
body  else  leaves  this  place,  I  never  will,  no  never." 
This  little  speech  had  a  tremendous  effect,  every 
one  felt  stronger  ;  the  young  man  threw  open  the 
door  and  walked  the  yard,  went  round  the  house, 
came  in  and  kept  moving  from  point  to  point. 
The  idea  of  returning  to  Pennsylvania  was  at  once 
abandoned.  They  agreed  to  go  early  next  morn- 
ing and  examine  Barker's  premises,  in  order  to 
determine  if  possible,  the  cause  of  so  much  dis- 
turbance. 


CHAPTER    III. 

On  the  following  mornins:,  when  the  sun  appear- 
ed over  the  eastern  hills,  and  the  heavy  fog  that 
hung  over  the  river's  channel,  rolled  off  to  the 
southeast,  every  thing  looked  so  clear  and  bright; 


MARY    BAEKEE.  2l 

the  deep  green  foliage  look  ad  so  flourishing,  and 
the  birds  chirped  so  merrily,  that  each  one  almost 
felt  ashamed  of  his  alarm  on  the  preceding  night. 
In  spite  of  clear  sun-shine,  however,  it  was  evident 
that  the  alarm  was  not  fiction  ;  for  two  stont  chil- 
dren were  gone  ;  this  was  a  real,  unmistakable 
matter,  and  stood  as  a  witness  of  contradiction  to 
any  conclusions  of  humbug.  At  an  early  hour  all 
proceeded  to  Barker's  to  investigate  by  daylight 
the  horrors  of  darkness.  The  appearance  of  things 
about  the  great  wood  pile,  where  the  explosion 
was  heard  the  night  before,  proved  that  an  explo- 
sion had  actually  occurred  ;  sticks  of  wood  were 
scattered  in  all  directions,  and  the  ground  upon 
which  the  wood  had  lain,  was  swept  perfectly 
clean.  Nothing  but  powder,  or  some  infernal 
agency  equal  to  it,  could  have  produced  such  an 
eifect.  But  whence  the  powder  came,  who  placed 
and  tired  it,  or  for  what  purpose  it  was  done,  no 
person  could  even  conjecture. 

Proceeding  on  to  Barker's  house,  things  seemed 
not  greatly  out  of  fix ;  but  minute  examination 
showed  a  number  of  the  most  hideous  tracks  ever 
made  by  min,  beast  or  monster.  The  tiacks  were 
roundish,  nearly  a  foot  in  dianneter,  and  seemed  to 
be  surrounded  with  claws.  But  the  most  remark- 
able matter  was  a  letter,  or  sheet  of  writing 
which  was  lying  between  two  small  boards  on  the 
door-step.  The  writing  was  upon  a  thick,  tough 
substance,  unlike  any  thing  the  beholders  had  ever 


22  MARY    BARKER. 

seen  before.  It  purported  to  be  a  letter  written 
by  Mary  Barker,  the  woman  whose  absence  wafi 
the  commencement  of  troubles  ;  the  contents  were 
as  follows : 

"  To  Hannah  Moflitt  on  Earth,  the  third  first  at- 
tendant orb  of  system  Seraphous,  no.  22384:,  now 
in  section  Gemini,  direct  over  Enoch's  palace, 
across  by  Pearl  gate  143.  To  be  carried  by  one 
of  Gabriel's  attendants. 

"Dear  Sister — I  am  safe  in  heaven.  I  am  now 
sitting  in  my  emerald  colonade;  on  the  eastern 
wing  of  my  mansion  are  the  plains  of  glory :  on 
my  head  is  a  crown  that  would  dim  the  little  sun 
that  rules  your  day ;  I  am  robed  in  white  glory, 
the  texture  of  which  I  cannot  describe,  and  I  have 
just  laid  down  a  harp  that  is  so  constructed  that  all 
I  have  to  do  is  to  blow  upon  it,  and  it  sings  all  the 
songs  of  heaven.  We  all  sing  the  same  thing ;  the 
great  melodium  of  God  sets  the  tune,  and  all  our 
harps  instinctively  follow.  Before  me  is  the  throne 
reaching  higher  than  I  can  see  ;  on  my  left  is  the 
river  of  life,  and  on;my  right  ia  the  grand  museum. 
I  never  knew  till  I  came  here  why  Elijah  was  taken 
up  alive ;  the  Lord  has  placed  him  in  his  great 
museum,  and  all  nations  flock  to  see  a  specimen  ot 
man  purified  'by  the  blood  of  Christ. 

But,  my  dear  sister,  I  have  a  tale  of  woe  to  un- 
fold. I  was  murdered,  cruelly,  brutally  murdered, 
and  that  by  the  last  person  in  the  world  you  would 


MARY     BARKER.  23 

suspect.  I  wa9  murdered  bj  John  Barker,  my 
husband.  He  produced  all  that  disturbance,  and 
he  is  still  at  it ;  he  has  murdered  three  of  my  chil- 
dren, and  before  long  he  will  murder  you.  You 
know  in  my  young  days,  I  was  promised  to  Wil- 
liam Gatlin,  and  that  Barker  continued  to  break  it 
off  and  then  married  me  himself.  But  before  this 
took  place  he  was  also  engaged  to  a  woman  in 
Pennsylvania  ;  on  the  day  before  he  murdered  me, 
Gatlin  brought  him  a  letter  from  this  woman. 
This  letter  informed  him  that  the  woman  was  near- 
ly deranged  about  him  ;  and  that  she  would  still 
marry  him,  if  he  would  have  her.  He  immediate- 
ly laid  his  plans  to  kill  his  wife  and  children,  and 
80  manage  as  to  keep  the  affair  in  the  dark ;  this 
he  has  done,  and  so  soon  as  he  has  killed  you,  he 
will  go  back  to  Pennsylvania.  Barker  is  the  mean- 
est man  upon  earth;  he  blew  up  the  wood  pile 
with  a  keg  of  powder,  and  if  yon  will  look  under 
the  old  root  just  below  the  spring,  you  will  find  the 
keg  with  some  powder  still  in  it.  He  made  those 
huge  tracks  with  a  great  block  which  he  fixed  for 
the  purpose,  and  the  block  is  now  under  a  brush- 
heap  below  the  house.  He  killed  me  with  a  large 
knife,  and  he  has  killed  all  the  children  with  the 
same  knife.  The  light  which  those  young  men 
followed,  was  fire  that  Baker  carried  himself,  all 
of  which  he  has  done  to  deceive.  If  you  will  look 
under  a  large  rock,  near  the  river,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  branch,  you  will  find  our  clothes,  some  bloody 


24  MART    BARKER. 

and  some  with  holes  stabbed  through  them.  I 
advise  you  to  show  this  to  the  nighbors  and  let 
them  seize  the  wretch  ;  it  is  the  will  of  heaven  that 
he  should  be  burned  alive.  I  am  only  allowed  to 
send  this  in  order  to  spare  the  innocent  and  pun- 
ish the  guilty.     Act  quickly. 

MARY— A  SPIRIT." 

All  former  astonishment  was  nothing  to  what 
now  seized  the  hearers ;  every  eye  fell  upon 
Barker,  and  beneath  that  concentrated  look  he 
quailed.  When  asked  what  he  had  to  say  to  this, 
he  merely  rJdmarked  that  they  all  knew  it  was  false, 
and  demanded  that  they  should  search  for  the 
powder  and  the  clothes.  A  few  steps  brought 
them  to  the  old  root,  and  to  the  utter  surprise  of 
all,  the  powder  and  keg  were  there.  Barker  said 
nothing,  but  simply  mentioned  that  they  should  gb^ 
to  the  river  and  search  for  the  clothes.  Within 
fifteen  minutes  they  were  at  the  designated  rock, 
and  there  were  the  clothes  and  a  huge  knife  with 
John  Baker  engraved  upon  the  handle.  This  was 
conclusive.  Barker  turned  white  as  cloth,  reeled  , 
and  fell.  In  a  few  minutes  he  recovered;  then 
raising  his  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven,  he  said, 
"  Great  God,  thou  knowest  I  am  innocent.  The 
Devil  has  taken  my  wife  and  children,  my  heart  is 
broken,  my  soul  bleeds  ;  if  it  were  thy  will  I  would 
die.  Oh !  God,  this  is  a  bitter  cup,  how  can  I 
bear  it?"     He  fell  back  senseless  and  knew  no 


MARY     IJAilKEil. 


9r» 


more  for   ten    days.      Petor   Craven   carried  him 
home  and  nursed  hira  during  his  iihiess. 

On  the  next  day  after  these  events,  an  informal 
assemblage  was  held  to  determine  what  disposition 
should  be  made  of  Barker.  All  seemed  to  be  fulh' 
persuaded  of  his  guilt.  Xumberless  circumstances 
confirmed  the  statements  of  the  letter.  They  could 
see  tliat  he  had  not  been  much  affected  at  the  loss 
of  his  wife;  he  had  been  but  little  disposed  to 
search  eitlier  for  her  or  the  children  ;  he  had 
eeemed  to  express  no  astonishment  at  the  liglit  the 
young  men  saw  vanish  over  his  house.  The  pow- 
der, the  clothes,  and  especially  the  knife,  confirm- 
ed the  matter  beyond  dispute.  He  was  a  base, 
malicious  murderer  ;  he  was  certainly  the  blackest 
criminal  in  the  catalogue  of  crime.  But  what 
should  be  done  to  him  ;  how  should  lie  be  disposed 
of;  these  were  questions  more  easily  asked  than 
answered.  They  had  no  law,  no  magistrates,  no 
otiicers,  and  no  legal  means  of  inflicting  punisli- 
ment.  After  much  consultation,  it  was  determined 
to  take  him  as  lie  then  Avas,  in  an  insane  condition, 
and  hang  him.  As  none  other  tlian  Lynch  law 
could  be  ue-.ed,  it  was  thongiit  best  to  use  it  when 
the  guilty  man  would  know  nothing  of  his  dco^rada- 
tion.  At  this  jnnctui'e,  Spinks  again  rose  wit'ii  tlie 
same  earnestness  that  marked  his  manner  on  the 
night  above  described.  He  spoke  as  follows : 
"Friends,  you  seem  to  act  rashly  ;  it  mav  be  be- 
n 


20  MARY    liXR-KKU. 

caPiSe  I  am  an  io^norant  boj,  but  I  ti;iiik  you  de- 
termine without  reason.  There  is  indeed  much- 
that  is  strange  in  vrhat  has  happened  ;  I  am  una- 
ble to  nndorstand  or  explain  it,  but  I  have  no  con- 
iidenee  in  it.  Can  von  believe  tliat  letter  was  sent 
from  lieaven?  It' yon  do,  I  "do  not.  Vfe  are  told 
that  the  last  revelations  have  been  made  ;  why 
then  should  one  so  specitic  as  this  be  sent  down? 
Or  was  there  ever  since  the  w^orld  began,  any 
writing  sent  iVom  h.eaven  ?  Ko,  and  never  will 
be.  I  tell  3'on  ogain,  some  deep,  iirlei-nal  plot  is 
at  work.  I  charge  yon  not  to  stain  yonr  hands 
wnth  innocent  blood.  I  feel  a  deep  impiession  that 
T  shall  yet  be  able  to  expose  the  whole  matter." 
The  old  men  si  ook  ilieir  heads,  talked  of  boyish 
notions,  &e.,  and  seemed  disposed  to  act  upon  tlieir 
own  counsels.  The  speech,  however,  cooled  their 
ardor,  they  agreed  to  let  Barker  alone  for  a  time, 
and  closely  v/atch  his  movements.  The  two  yonug 
women  went  to  iMhou's,  and  as  soon  as  Barker  re- 
covered, he  rctutned  to  his  own  desolate  home 
and  seemed  content  to  live  there.  Tilings  again 
progressed  quietly,  and  affairs  began  to  look  pros- 
])erons  and  peaceable,  when  Barker  liimselfwas 
missed.  After  vraiiing  and  looking  for  several 
daj's,  all  were  conyinccd  that  lie  liad  returned  as 
the  letter  ])redictcd.  The  young  man  was  much 
blamed  for  h.is  counsels,  and  indeed  some  surmised 
that  he  was  concerned  in  the  matter  himself  All 
fchunned  him  and  hooked   upon  hiim  with  deep  sus- 


MARY   i3AiiK::r:.  27 

picion.  To  confirm  tiie  coiivictiou,  Spinks,  in  about 
two  weeks,  disappeaietl  :  uoiie  doubted  tluit  ho  was 
au  acc<>inp!ice  of  barker's,  and  that  both  l^ad  re- 
turned to  rciinsjivaiiia. 


CHAPTER   ly. 

Wk  must  now  clianae  tliC  poeiie,  and  narrate  tlie 
fictions  of  other  places  and  Mmes.  \Vm.  Gatiin,  as 
above  intimated,  liad  been  engaged  to  the  lady 
John  Darker  afterwards  married  ;  Gatiin  was  sup- 
planted and  that  seemed  to  be  the  end  of  liis  pre- 
tensions, ihit,  in  fact,  it  was  not;  deep, silent  and 
eternal  in  Jiis  hate,  by  a  horrid  <'ath,  he  had  sworn 
tliat  Barker  should  rue  his  conduct.  Gatiin  was  a 
scholar  and  a  man  of  decided  talent ;  and  a  man 
of  such  tiimness  of  purpose,  that  time,  the  destroy- 
er of  all  tilings  mortal,  seemed  to  have  no  power 
over  his  resolves.  When  Baiker  migrated  to  Car- 
olina, Gatiin  followed  him  ;  like  a  fierce  tiger,  he 
kept  his  eye  npon  the  booty.  Having  associated 
much  with  the  Indians  in  his  earlier  days,  he  conld, 
to  some  extent,  conver^^e  with  them  ;  roving  about 
the  new  settlement,  he  at  longfh  met  with  a  large 
encampment  of  Indians  at  what  is  yet  called  the 
Indian  spring,  near  the  plantation  of  Jee^se  Bra}', 
b2 


'2-6  MA.KY    BAIiKEK. 

about  ono  and  a  lialf  miles  above  the  Buiialo  lord 
on  Deep  river.  This  was  quite  a  village  ;  the  foun- 
tain is  to  this  day  renowned  for  its  beauty  and  ex- 
cellence ;  the  land  about  it  is  rich  ;  the  resources 
for  fishing  were  tlien  excellent,  and  game  of  choice 
quality  v/as  abundant.  That  neighborhood,  com- 
posed of  Coxes,  Brays,  Popes,  Carrells,  Aliens, 
Moffitts,  &C.J  is  now  one  of  the  wealthiest  in  Kan- 
dolph. 

Gatlin  joined  the  powerful  Indian  tribe  that  then 
owned  those  lands;  he  pretended  to  be  a  deserter 
from  the  white  man.  By  his  skill  and  good  con- 
duct, he  soon  became  a  favorite  ;  the  red  sojourn- 
ers of  the  forest  loved  him  and  made  him  a  chief 
of  one  division.  He  told  the  Indians,  that  a  white- 
man  had  stolen  his  wife  and  carried  her  off,  and 
for  that  reason,  he,  Gatlin,  had  left  his  brethren 
and  sworn  eternal  hate  against  them.  He  often 
related  to  them  how  he  would  like  to  sealp  the 
white  foe,  and  burn  their  dying  bodies  to  cinders. 
He  had  not  been  in  the  camp  more  than  a  month,, 
before  the  return  of  a  hunting  party  brought  in- 
telligence, that  a  settlement  of  white  men  was 
forming  a  few  miles  up  the  river.  Gatlin,  though 
knowing  it  well,  pretended  to  be  much  astonished 
and.  expressed  great  anxiety  to  see  who  they  were, 
and  whence  they  come.  As  chief  he  had  com- 
mand of  a  small  band  of  you:!g  men,  and  on  the 
next  morning  he  started  witli  these  for  the  purpose 
of  making  such  investigations  as  he  chose.     Hav- 


MART    BARKLJ:. 


2d 


ing  left  hiB  young  men  at  some  distance,  Gatliii 
prowled  about  the  settlement  until  be  linally  met 
one  of  the  settlers  near  the  great  wood-pile,  as  de- 
tailed in  chapter  1.  His  object  was  not  to  learn, 
for  he  already  knew  all  the  localities,  but  he  wish- 
ed to  make  the  Indians  believe  that  he  was  truly 
in  earnest.  Returning  to  his  comrades,  he  inform- 
ed them  that  he  had  discovered  his  wife;  that  the 
wretch  Jo!m  Barker,  who  had  married  or  ran  oft* 
with  her,  was  one  of  the  new  coiners,  and  that 
Bince  she  had  left  him  she  had  become  the  mother 
of  three  children.  The  savage  young  warriors 
nrged  Gatlin  to  simply  shoot  Barker,  and  take  his 
wife  to  the  Indian  camp.  Gatlin  waved  his  hand 
as  a  token  for  silence,  and  said,  "  My  wrong,  like 
a  slow  rising  thunder  storm,  has  been  gathering 
strength  for  years,  and  must  not  be  exhausted  by 
one  lead  ball.  I  will  torture  Barker  with  every 
pang  of  human  suffering,  I  will  then  commence  at 
his  toes  and  take  him  to  pieces  joint  by  joint,  un- 
til the  operation  kills  him,  and  after  that  I  will 
burn  his  d — d  remnants  to  ashes.  As  to  that  wo- 
man, I  will  bring  her  away  alive,  [  will  treat  her 
as  I  like,  and  I  w  ill  then  put  her  to  death  with  my 
own  hands.  Those  three  children  shall  be  shot  to 
death  with  sharp  arrows.  I  swear  by  this  wampum 
belt,  that  this  shall  be  done." 

Gatlin's  object  was  to  entice  Mary  Barker  from 
her  home  ;  he  knew  that  by  so  doing,  he  could 
torture  Barker  and  her  butli  much  more,  than  by 
k3 


30  MARY     BARKEE. 

offering  any  violence.  Ilis  plans  had  for  some 
time  been  laid  ;  he  intended  to  convince  her  that 
her  sister  whom  she  had  left  in  Pennsylvania,  was 
then  among  the  Indi'ins.  Being  a  ready  scribe  he 
connterfeited  a  letter  in  the  iollowing  words: 

''Dear  sister  Mary : — I  am  a  captive.  The  In- 
dians have  J^illod  onr  father  and  mother,  and  all  the 
family  except  me.  I  am  to  be  bnrnt  to  death  to 
night  nhle:-8  I  am  redeemed.  It  is  an  Indian  law, 
if  my  sister  lays  her  liand  n])on  my  head,  that  I 
and  my  sister  too  are  forever  safe  after  that.  Wm. 
Gadin  was  captured  also,  but  has  his  liberty  by 
giving  his  word  not.  to  gi^  away  ;  I  pray  you  to 
come  with  him  to  night  an^i  we  will  both  return  in 
the  morning.  Come,  O  !  come.  Think  of  the 
burning  stake  !  Mr.  Gatliu  has  happened  to  find 
out  your  settlement,  and  is  wilh'ng  to  bring  you.. 
You  must  not  let  any  of  your  folks  know  it. 

Your  sister,   .  Sarah.''^^ 

After  giving  liis  companion  some  instructions-,. 
Gatlin  went  to  Barker's  spring  and  took  his  station 
by  an  old  root.  In  the  space  of  an  hour  Mary  np- 
peared  vmh  the  water  pail.  Gatlin  stepped  off  a 
little  and  then  advanced  toward  the  spring  in  haste. 
Mrs.  Barker  w^as  so  affriglited  at  his  nnexpzcted 
appearance,  that  she  was  al>out  to  retreat  to  the 
house,  but  ho  called  to  her  v»^ith  a  kind  voice,  and 
without  any   explanation    handed  her  the  letter. 


HART     BARKER.  31 

She  was  completely  deceived.  Tears  gathered  in 
her  eyes  as  she  thanked  GatUn  for  his  kindness. 
Having  no  ground  for  suspicion,  she  indulged 
none  ;  she  had  known  Gatliu  from  childhood,  and 
had  always- considered  him  a  very  genteel  person. 
She  inquired  it  her  husband  might  not  go  at  least 
a  portion  of  the  distance  to  the  Indian  camp;  the 
vile  deceiver  replied  that  Mr.  Barker  must  know 
nothing  of  her  intentions.  Having  agreed,  accord- 
ing to  his  suggestion,  to  steal  out  during  an  uproar 
which  he  should  raise  by  firing  the  wood-pile,  they 
parted,  he  to  chuckle  over  the  success  of  his  vil- 
lainy, and  she  to  spend  her  last  happy  evening  of 
life. 

Under  a  bed  in  the  hous«,  was  a  loose  plank,  the 
existence  of  which  was  totally  forgotten  by  all  the 
family  except  Mrs.  Barker;  by  this  means  during 
the  alarm  at  night,  she  escaped  without  difficulty, 
as  the  door  was  nearly  two  feet  from  the  ground. 
She  met  Gatlin  but  a  few  yards  in  roar  of  the 
house  ;  he  advised  her  to  change  her  shoes  for  a  pair 
he  had  ;  she  did  so,  and  he  dropped  one  of  hers 
purposely  ;  a  little  further  on  he  dropped  a  hand- 
kerchief which  he  Lad  carefully  bloodied  during 
the  day,  and  in  drawing  the  handkerchief  from  his 
pocket,  he  unintentionally  dropped  the  letter  be- 
fore mentioned.  Having  proceeded  about  a  mile, 
just  after  crossing  the  river  in  a  canoe,  Gatlin  re- 
marked :  *'  Mary,  you  hud  better  pass  for  my  wife, 
while  you  are  among  the  Indians." 

64 


k 

"^^  MARY    BARKER. 

^' Why  SO,''  replied  Mary,  in  evident  alarm? 
,    "Because,"  said  the  fiend,  ^' you  can  do  more 
good  by  that  means;  and  in  fact,  you  can  just 
change  the  matter  for  a  sliort  timet  you  know  I 
wanted  you  once.''  .         , 
|...t)eep  emotion  and  black  suspicion  choked  Mary 

c|v  "^^^^^ '  ®^^^  ^^^n  said  : 
od/  -^'^^^  ^^  ^^^^  ^o  ^J  own  family." 
^/  'You  will   never  see  them  again,"  answered 
Gatlin. 


UHiJ:' 


CHAPTER    Y. 

About  the  year  1710,  the  Tuscarora  Indians  be- 
came displeased  with  the  settlers  in  ISTorth  Caro- 
lina, and  laid  a  deep  plot  to  murder  the  whole 
population  in  one  night.  The  better  to  eiFect  their 
measures,  they  pretended  great  intimacy  and 
friendship,  visited  the  whites  more  frequently 
than  usual,  and  used  all  ordinary  Indian  methods 
of  showing  attachment.  The  fatal  day  arrived 
that  was  to  be  the  last  to  many  men,  women  and 
children  ;  nature  seeme(i" dressed  in  her  most  love- 
ly  attire,  and  held  out  to  her  creature  man  every 
prospect  of  peace,  happiness  and  plenty.  In  the 
afternoon,   twelve    hundred   Indian   warriors  ^e^ 


MART    BARKER.  33 

lected  from  the  wliole  Tuscarora  nation,  armed 
with  the  murderous  tomahawk  and  ponderous 
war-club,  but  without  the  usual  war  paint,  moved 
towards  the  unsuspecting  whites.  They  marched 
silently  on,  not  intending  to  give  any  alarm, 
and  dispersed  themselves  over  the  entire  colony: 
about  dusk,  in  a  very  friendly  manner,  they  en- 
tered the  dwellings  of  the  whites,  and  asked  for 
something  to  eat.  Food  was  placed  before  them, 
but  they  could  not  be  pleased ;  they  faulted  their 
entertainers  and  seemed  to  be  inclined  to  be  un- 
civil. In  a  short  time  the  far-sounding,  deep-toned, 
ominous  war-whoop  rang  from  hill  to  dale;  the 
whites  sprang  to  arms  and  resistance,  but  it  was 
too  late.  The  whole  country  was  illumined  by 
burning  houses;  the  yell  of  furious  eavages  wao 
terrific  beyond  description;  the  startling  shrieks 
of  innocent  victims  in  the  agonies  of  death,  were 
guffici^nt  to  have  arrestetl  tt.e  liowlings  of  the  bot- 
tomless pit.  Fatk-ers  were  eut  down  Aod  scaiped, 
mothers  were  slain  begging  for  mercy,  and  chil- 
dren were  thrown  into  the  hi  izing  remnants  of 
their  homes.  But  few  escaped  that  dreadful  night, 
especially  in  that  part  of  the  colony  nearest  the 
Indian  eiicampmeut,  A  rendezvous  however  was 
effected,  and  a  check  put  to  the  massacre ;  a  mes- 
senger was  despatched  to  South  Carolina,  and  in  a 
very  short  time  a  sufficient  force  arrived  to  repel 
;the  invaders.  In  the  midst  of  the  carnage  an  In- 
4i^^  leveled  his  tomahawk  at  ^n  old  ladjr  who 
b5 


34  MAKY    BABKEB. 

attempted  to  screen  or  hide  two  small  children 
under  her  apron ;  as  the  weapon  whirled  through 
the  air  a  boy  about  ten  years  of  age  leaped  before 
it,  hit  it  with  a  stick  and  turned  it  aside ;  the  exas- 
perated Indian  raised  his  war-club  to  crush  the  boy 
to  the  earth,  but  with  great  skill  the  little  hero 
parried  this  also.  The  Indian,  struck  with  the 
boy's  magnanimity,  laid  his  hand  upon  his  head 
and  promised  to  spare  him  and  those  whom  he  had 
protected,  upon  condition  that  he — the  boy — would 
go  and  live  with. the  Indians.  The  little  fellow  ac- 
cepted the  offer,  and  after  attending  his  grand- 
mother and  the  children  to  a  place  of  safety,  set 
out  to  his  new  home.  The  chief  named  the  boy 
Brave,  which  continued  to  be  his  name  as  long  as 
he  lived.  The  tribe  by  which  Brave  was  adopted 
lived  in  Chatham  county,  and  had  their  encamp- 
ment on  Hickory  mountain.  There  were  at  this 
time  few  whites  in  all  this  part  of  the  State  ;  Brave 
consequently  saw  no  more  of  the  pale  faces  until 
he  was  fifteen  years  of  age ;  at  that  age  he  went 
with  the  calamut  of  peace  to  the  neighborhood 
where  he  was  raised.  He  desired  to  see  his  rela- 
tions, especially  his  grandmother;  he  did  not  go 
as  a  white  man,  but  as  an  Indian  chief  His  robe 
was  a  well  dressed  buffalo  skin  ornamented  with 
porcupine  quills,  his  head  dress  was  of  war-eagle 
quills  hanging  down  his  back,  his  moccasins  were 
of  buckskin  richly  embroidered,  and  his  necklace 
was  an  otter  skin  hung  with  eagle's  talons.    In  his 


MARY    BARKER.  35 

band  he  carried  a  long  spear  and  a  bow  tipped 
with  horn,  and  round  him  was  girded  the  broad 
belt  of  peace.  None  of  the  settlers  knew  him,  so 
changed  was  his  appearance  by  age  and  still  more 
by  his  Indian  dre>s.  He  inquired  for  his  grand- 
mother ;  she  had  died  more  than  two  years  before  ; 
his  two  sisters  yet  lived,  and  were  at  a  house  a  few 
miles  distant.  Hither  he  directed  his  way ;  his 
sisters,  after  a  moment's  hesitation  recognized  him, 
and  poured  profusely  upon  his  neck  the  tears  of 
joy ;  they  had  long  thought  him  dead,  when  sud- 
denly he  stood  before  them  a  strong,  beautiful 
youth  of  fifteen.  Scarcely  had  the  joy  of  meeting 
subsided,  when  five  huge  Indians,  in  all  the  deco- 
rations of  war,  were  seen  approaching  the  house ; 
coming  up  to  the  door,  they  laid  upon  the  sill  the 
calamut  and  the  tomahawk.  Brave  well  knew  the 
meaning  of  these  things;  walking  quickly  to  the 
door  he  laid  his  own  calamut  (which  is  a  pipe  of 
peculiar  fashion,)  upon  that  of  the  Indians;  then 
returning  to  his  sisters,  he  inquired  who  in  that 
house  had  slain  an  Indian.  They  protested  that 
no  one  had,  the  family  consisting  only  of  them- 
selves and  an  elderly  uncle.  Brave  frankly  told 
them  that  such  declarations  were  vain,  that  In- 
dians never  made  the  proposal  of  peace  or  war 
until  they  were  positively  certain  of  the  grounds 
upon  which  they  acted ;  that  the  calamut  and 
tomahawk  were  laid  at  the  door  to  signify  that  the 
inmates  might  have  peace,  if  they  would  surrender 
b6 


M  MARY    feARttER. 

the  mnrderer  ;  and  if  the  surrender  was  tiot  made 
W^r  \vas  thereby  declared  against  the  house;  that 
the  time  given  for  decision  only  lasted  while  the 
chief  smoked  out  the  contents  of  his  pipe.  The 
elder  sister,  in  great  trepidation,  confessed  that 
two  days  before,  during  the  absence  of  her  uncle,'^ 
she  had  shot  an  Indian,  whom  she  at  the  time 
thought  trying  to  enter  the  house  by  stealth  :  she 
added  that  she  had  since  been  convinced  that  the 
Indian  meant  no  harm.  Brave  replied  that  the 
Indian  law  was  "  blood  for  blood,"  that  no  palia- 
tinsr  circumstance  could  avert  the  doom,  and  that 
nothing  short  of  her  death  would  give  satisfaction. 
Looking  at  his  sister  for  a  moment,  and  exhibiting 
terrible  agony  in  his  countenance.  Brave  went  out 
to  the  Indians  and  gave  himself  up  as  the  mur- 
derer. He  was  caused  to  stand  erect,  his  calamut 
and  tomahawk  by  his  side,  and  the  ordinary  pipe 
in  his  mouth  :  two  Indians  stood  before  him  at  a 
distance  of  ten  paces,  with  their  rifles  pointed  at  •' 
his  heart.  Proudly  ihe  young  hero  stood,  deter- 
mined to  die  as  became  an  Indian  chief;  becom- 
ing impatient  he  waived  his  hand  to  the  marks- 
men to  do  their  duty  His  sister  happening  to 
look  out  and  see  him,  with  a  loud  shriek  darted 
between  him  and  the  guns,  declaring  herself  to  be 
the  murderer.  The  chief  raised  his  finger,  the 
gunners  lowered  their  pieces ;  he  then  inquired  of 
Brave  who  he  was,  and  who  was  the  murderer. 
Brave  replied : 


"I  am  a  pale  face  by  birtli,  and  an  Ir.dlan  by 
life;  this  girl  has  rashly  shot  one  of  your  men,  she 
is  my  sister,  and  I  offer  my  life  for  hers." 

"Where  your  camp,"  replied  the  chief,  "and 
who  your  people  ?" 

"  My  camp,"  said  Brave,  "  is  on  the   mountain  , 
of  hickories;  my  people  the  Tuscarora.     But  this 
has  nothing  to  do  with  "  blood  for  blood,"  "  let 
vengeance  be  paid." 

"Were  you,"  said   the   chief,  "  in   the  battle  of  ^ 
streams?" 

"  I  was." 

"Did  you  see  a  pale  face  save  the  life  of  an  .* 
Indian?" 

"I  did  the  deed  myself" 

"That  Indian  is  the  one  wliom  your  sister  lias 
killed  ;  as  you  offer  *  blood  for  blood,'  and  saved 
his  life,  you  an-  free." 

Brave  and  the  Indians  smoked'  the  pipes  of 
peace;  and  during  their  conversation,  the  clifer 
informed  Brave  that  his  (Brave's)  tribe  had  b(night 
a  captive  white  girl,  and  that  the  girl  had  affirmed 
that  she  had  a  brother  living  with  the  Indians. 

Brave  having  arranged  all  matters,  hastened 
home  to  investigate"  the  report  about  the  white 
captive  ;  he  imagined  there  must  be  some  mistake, 
but  still  he  was  certain  the  report  must  be  true. . 
Arriving  at  the  camp  of  his  tribe,  he  found  k' 
beautiful  young  lady  who  said  her  name  was  Gatlin, 
and  that  she  had  been  carried  by  a  party  of  Indians' 


3S  MABY    BARKER. 

from  Pennsylvania.  Brave  knew  that  a  white  man 
by  thd  name  of  Gatliu  was  in  the  tribe  at  the 
great  Indian  Springs  near  Deep  River ;  filled 
with  compassion  for  the  disconsolate  condition  of 
the  young  lady,  Brave  l-esolved  to  visit  the  Spring 
camp^  and  inform  Gatlin  that  his  sister  was  at 
Hickory  mountain.  Early  in  the  morning  he  set 
out,  and  arrived  at  the  Springs  in  the  afternoon. 
He  was  received  with  great  courtesy  by  the  old 
chief  Ilidavj  and  presented  with  pipes  and  food. 
Brave  was  astonished  at  the  extent  of  the  village. 
The  great  Springs  were  in  a  deep,  broad  valley 
that  terminated  in  Millstone  creek  ;  on  each  slope 
of  this  valley  were  innumerable  tents  arranged  in 
regular  order  ;  on  a  steep  bluff  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  fountam,  stood  the  grand  tent  of 
the  chief  To  the  east  opened  an  immense  plain 
variegated  with  small  rolling  hills  upon  which  a 
vast  number  of  ponies  were  feeding.  While  Brave 
was  admiring  this  magnificent  village,  his  atten- 
tion was  arrested  by  a  sweet  strain  of  rude  music, 
and  looking  towards  the  creek,  he  saw  a  company 
of  Indian  damsels  advancing  and  singing  the  un- 
noted carols  of  the  forest.  In  their  midst  he  de- 
scribed one  of  singular  beauty  ;  she  proved  to  be 
the  chief's  daughter.  Her  beautiful  figure,  full 
smooth  forehead,  long,  black  hair  adorned  w^ith 
feathers,  her  sparkling  eyes  shaded  by  a  watching 
brow,  and  her  deep  orange  complexion,  all  com- 
bined in  singular  harmony  to  finish  one  of  nature's 


MARY     BARKER.  39 

loveliest  pictures.  By  her  acquaintance  with 
Gatlin,  she  had  learned  a  smarter  of  the  English 
language,  and  was  consequently  able  to  impart 
some  information.  She  told  Brave  that  Gatlin  was 
not  good  ;  that  he  at  first  had  asked  her  to  marry 
him,  a!id  afterwards  had  confessed  that  he  had  a 
wife  who  ran  off  with  a  man  called  Barker ;  that 
a  few  da3's  ago  he  had  discovered  that  she  was 
living  but  a  few  miles  from  the  camp,  and  that 
with  a  few  warriors  he  was  then  gone  to  take  her 
away  from  Barker ;  that  he  would  be  back  in  a 
few  hours  with  her. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

Mary  Barker  was  not  only  virtuous  and  sensible, 
but  she  was  a  woman  of  the  most  determmed  cour- 
age, and  at  the  same  time  of  the  greatest  prudence  : 
she  was  a  pure  Quaker,  a  real  Christian  and  a  de- 
voted wife.  No  combination  of  dithculties  could 
unnerve  her  energy  ;  no  chicanery  could  throw 
her  off  her  guard  ;  no  wary  foe  could  deceive  her 
by  false  alarms.  When  Gatlin,  as  detailed  in  chap- 
ter fourth,  told  her  she  would  never  see  her  family 
again,  she  saw  at  a  flash  the  whole  maneuvre. 
Her  first  thought  was  to  refuse  to  advance  further, 


,40  MARY    BAKKEB. 

■*• 

and  to  reproach  the  wretch  for  his  villainy ;  pru- 
dence whispered  that  such  a  com  se  would  be  foll}^ 
that  her  safer  way  would  be  to  admit  as  far  as 
honor  would  allow.  She  consequently  made  no 
reply,  but  moved  onward  with  as  firm  a  step  as 
possible.  After  moving  on  at  a  brisk  walk  tor  near 
an  hour,  Gatlin  motioned  to  the  Indians  to  go  on, 
and  stepping  before  Mary,  said  "  HopP 

"  Tell  me  now  whether  you  are  willing  to  pass  as 
ray  wife  in  all  respects;  or  would  you  rather  suffer 
my  pleasure  first  and  then  try  the  tortures  of  an 
Indian  victim  ?  I  will  give  you  five  minutes  to 
think  ;  and  I  warn  you  neither  let  backwardness 
nor  presumption  shape  your  answer  ;  your  life  de- 
pends upon  the  resolve  of  this  moment." 

"  I  want  no  time  to  consider,"  replied  Mary,  "  I 
am  with  an  old  acquaintance,  an  honest  man,  one 
whom  my  father  has  befriended,  one  who  once 
respected  me,  and  one  in  whom  I  had  all  confi- 
dence. I  know  thou  art  in  one  of  thy  old  playful 
moods,  and  not  at  all  in  earnest." 

"You  play  the  game  well,"  returned  Gatlin, 
"  but  you  cannot  get  me  on  that  hook.  Those  ten- 
der cords  upon  which  you  think  to  play,  have  long 
since  been  destroyed  by  the  monster  revenge. 
No  motive  can  or  will  influence  me  but  my  own 
will.  I  once  asked  you  to  have  mercy  upon  a  de- 
voted lover  ;  you  turned  a  deaf  ear  ;  3^ou  are  now 
in  my  power,  and  I  shall  yield  no  entreaties." 

"  But  I  rely  upon  thy  honor  as  a  man,  and     ■  ^'^ 


MAEY    BAEKEK.  41 

*'  Sing  me  no  such  Psalms  ;  take  your  choice 
quicklj." 

*' But  I  came  at  tlie  call  of  my  sister,  wait  at 
least  till  I  see  her  safe." 

"  Your  sister  the  d ;  she  is  not  within  fi?e 

hundred  miles  of  this  country.  That  letter  was 
written  by  my  own  hand.  I  say  again  choose 
quickly." 

"But  would  thee  deceive  an  honest " 

^     "Stop  your  suasions,  and  choose  life  or  death, 
1  say." 

'^Priend  Gatlin,  I  am  in  thy  power,  for  I  per- 
ceive I  have  no  friend  near  except  my  Father  in 
heaven.  If  thee  is  disposed  to  harm  me,  and  break 
the  bruised  reed,  I  am  unable  to  prevent  it ;  but  if, 
as  thee  says,  I  have  a  choice,  I  make  free  to  tell 
thee  that  I  will  never  pass  as  thy  wife  while  life 
lasts.  I  have  nothing  against  thee  nor  any  one 
else,  but  I  am  not  thy  wife,  nor  will  I  say  that  I 
am.  Thou  may  burn  me,  torture  me,  kill  me  with 
all  thy  malignant  cruelty  ;  I  have  no  fear  of  these 
things,  and  only  now  ask  thee  to  remain  true  to 
thy  promise,  that  I  may  have  my  choice." 

Gatlin  had  not  expected  this  firmness;  therefore 
murmuring  out  something  indistinctly,  he  bid  her 
follow  him,  and  led  the  way  rapidly  towards  the 
(^amp.  Mary  was  conducted  to  a  large,  well  furn- 
ished tent  or  wigwam  ;  in  it  she  found  som-e  im- 
plements of  civilized  life,  and  some  things  that 
(leeply  touclied  \\^r  heart  with  painful  recollections 


4^  MART    BABKEK. 

of  home.  Gatlin  bid  her  be  seated  on  a  finely  or- 
namented wicker  chair,  offered  her  water  from  a 
curiously  carved  goblet,  and  proffered  her  the  per- 
fumed calumet.  In  a  few  minutes  two  Indian  dam- 
sels, with  the  royal  feather  in  their  long  flowing 
hair,  and  beautiful  scarfs  pendent  from  their  shoul- 
ders, entered,  bearing  the  great  Indian  waiter,  in 
wdiich  were  the  well  cooked  products  ot'earth,  forest 
and  stream.  They  seated  themselves  in  front  of 
Mary,  holding  the  waiter  in  their  laps  ;  they  tried 
every  imaginable  means  to  induce  he£.to  eat,  but  in 
vain.  Gatlin  approached  and  prefaced  his  request 
by  saying  "  My  Dear."  Mary  suffered  him  to  pro- 
ceed no  further;  it  was  simply  the  eyes  of  a  mild, 
amiable  woman  that  silenced  him  ;  but  from  those 
eyes  darted  rebuke  and  power  before  which  a  reck- 
less villain  quailed.  The  warriors  in  front  of  the 
wigwam  stepped  suddenly  aside,  and  a  tall  young 
chief  entered  carrying  in  one  hand  a  huge  toma- 
hawk, in  the  other  a  long  staff,  upon  which  was  a 
tuft  of  feathers ;  having  spoken  a  few  words  to 
Gatlin,  both  retired,  leaving  Mary  and  the  young 
squaws  in  the  tent,  and  several  warriors  in  front 
and  around.  From  the  deep  roaring  of  something 
like  a  great  fire,  the  hum  of  voices,  the  heavy  tramp 
of  men,  the  stealthy  word  of  command  that  imme- 
diately followed  the  departure  of  Gatlin  and  the 
chief,  Mary  became  sensible  that  something  un- 
usual was  at  hand.  In  al)f>iu.  fifteen  minutes  a 
richly  dressed  young  squaw  entered  the  wigwam, 


MARY     BARKEB.  4:9 

and,  to  Mary's  great  surprise,  spoke  "^ery  good 
English.  Without  hesitation  she  informed  Mary 
that  Gatlin  had  entered  the  death  belt  against  her 
in  the  council  of  chiefs  ;  that  they  were  kindling 
tho  fire,  and  that  in  a  short  time  she  must  die.  Mary 
with  great  composure  motioned  her  to  a  seat,  and 
then  told  her  that  she  was  not  Gatlin's  -wife  and 
that  her  own  husband  and  children  were  not  far 
away.  She  told  the  damsel  all  the  circumstances, 
and  asked  her  to  intercede  with  the  chief,  that  the 
white  settlers  might  be  sent  for.  The  conversation 
lasted  so  long  that  Gallin  became  impatient,  and 
entered  the  tent  in  a  rage  \  aa  he  approached 
Mar3%  the  Indian  girl  stepped  before  him  and  drew 
her  linger  across  her  forehead.  He  stopped,  turn- 
ed white  as  cloth,  motioned  the  damsel  aside,  and 
was  about  to  accompany  his  command  with  force : 
Yelna — for  tliat  was  the  girl's  name — drew  from 
her  bosom  a  whistle,  and  put  it  to  her  mouth  as  if 
to  sound  an  alaini. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

AVe  left  Mary  Barker  in  the  wigwam  with  Gat- 
lin and  Velna.  Jn^t  as  the  damsel  was  about  to 
give   the   alarm  to  repel  the  insolence  of  Gatlin, 


^i  MARY    BAEKEK. 

Mary  learned  the  meaningofthe  uproar  that  reign- 
ed without ;  for  the  far-sonnding  warwhoop  of  the 
red  man  rang  over  hill  and  dale.  Gatliii  darted 
from  the  tent,  and  Yelna  motioning  Mary  to  a 
place  of  concealment  behind  a  couch  of  skins,  fol- 
lowed him.  A  hostile  tribe  from  the  west  side  of 
the  pilot  mountain,  had  approached  so  near,  be- 
fore the  sentinel  of  the  Springs  had  perceived 
them,  that  tlie  old  chief  had  barely  time  to  call  his 
warriors  to  ranks  before  the  charo-e  was  made. 
The  onset  was  like  the  bursting  of  a  volcano  ;  the 
discharge  of  rifles,  of  which  most  ot  the  Indians  at 
that  time  had  a  small  supply  ;  the  tvfang  of  the 
deadly  bow,  tlie  whiz  of  the  death-dealing  toma- 
hawk, and  the  incessant  yell  of  the  attacking  par- 
ty, were  truly  terrific.  Mary  could  perceive  that 
the  spring  party  was  driven  back  beyond  the  great 
tent;  the  bright  flaming  of  a  wigwam  showed 
:many  warriors  lifeless  upon  the  ground  ;  every  mo- 
inent  «he  expected  the  one  in  which  she  v/as  con- 
sccaled  would  be  fired.  The  advancing  foe  was  at 
the  very  entrance,  when  opening  the  back  part  }n 
order  to  fly,  she  discovered  a  white  man,  unknown 
to  her  ^nd  of  powerful  form,  advance  with  a  chosen 
band,  and  with  ten  fold  fury  tlie  combatants  fought 
and  fell  on  all  sides.  Soon  the  whole  spring  tribe 
rallied  and  advanced  to  sustain  .the  daring  white. 
The  assaulting  tribe  were  in  turn  driven  back,  and 
as  the  sounds  of  strife  became  more  and  more  dis- 
tant, an  aged  white   man,  his  snowy  lacks  resting 


Maky   barker.  .4:5 

tipon  his  shoulders,  and  his  beard  equal  to  that  of 
Abraham's,  entered  the  wigwam  from  the  rear. 
Mary  was  about  to  speak,  but  instantly  pressing 
his  finger  npon  his  lip  as  a  token  of  silence,  and 
bending  till  his  beard  rested  upon  her  head,  he 
said  in  a  low  voice,  *'  My  daughter,  fear  not,  move 
not,  speak  ni)t,  but  folluw  the  one  that  presents 
thee  this  toker,"  holding  out  at  the  same  time  a 
curiously  formed  stall.  He  quickly  departed,  leav- 
ing Mary  in  a  situation  compounded  of  firmness, 
fear,  and  hope.  In  less  than  an  hour,  she  heard 
the  sounds  of  victory;  the  •  warriors  returned  in 
great  joy  ;  a  grand  can;p  fire  was  kindled  around 
which  the  Indians  collected  to  count  their  scalps 
and  pass  sentence  upon  the  only  cap'ive  they  had 
been  able  to  take.  lie  was  a  large  handsome  war- 
rior, in  the  full  dress  of  a  chief,  and  bore  himself 
cs  proudly  as  he  would  have  done  in  the  midst  of 
his  own  tribe.  His  condemnation  was  speedily 
passed,  and  with  the  pipe  in  his  mouth,  he  seated 
himself  npon  the  j)ile  of  brushwood,  and  calmly 
awaited  his  fate.  In  the  meantime  Brave,  for  he 
was  the  valiant  white  champion,  was  pleading  with 
the  council  ;  his  pleading,  however,  seemed  to  be 
in  vain,  for  a  torch  bearer  drew  near  to  fire  the 
pile.  Brave  instantly  seated,  himself  upon  the 
wood  be«ide  the  condemned,  and  said  in  a  clear 
and  strong  voice  : 

"I  call  upon  the  great  Spii-it  of  the  red  man  t(j 
bear  witness,  that  the  law  of  war  has  been  violated. 


46  MARY     BARKER. 

When  I  was  about  to  die  in  the  place  of  my  sister, 
this  chief  saved  my  life  because  I  had  done  one  of 
his  people  a  kindness.  I  have  to  night  conquered 
this  same  chief  in  fair  fight ;  1  spared  him,  because 
he  spared  me.  Brave  will  never  be  guilty  of  in- 
gratitude; no,  never;  if  this  warrior  dies,  he  will 
die  with  him  ;  we  have  been  fair  foes  ;  nov/  we  are 
firm  friends  ;  we  will  burn  together.  But  proud 
chief  of  the  Springs,  remember,  that  when  you 
fled  an  hour  ago,  I  met,  and  stopped  the  raging 
foe ;  I  now  die  in  the  bond  of  friendship  ;  bring 
on  thefirey 

The  fireman  stepped  forward  to  perform  his 
duty;  but  the  dark  maiden,  Yelna,  intercepted 
him  and  forbade  his  farther  progress ;  she  beck- 
oned the  old  chief  to  her,  and  falling  upon  her 
knees,  implored  him  to  spare  both  the  chief  and 
Brave.  For  some  time  he  seemed  unrelenting, 
but  finally  granted  the  boon.  At  this  juncture, 
Gatlin  came  forth  in  a  frenzy  of  passion,  and  de- 
manded that  the  decree  of  the  council  should  be 
obeyed ;  the  stern  warriors  murmured  their  assent, 
and  soon  a  menacing  shout  invoked  immediate 
vengeance.  As  they  were  again  applying  the 
cords  to  the  captives,  Velna,  who  had  retired  to 
her  wigwam  rushed  into  the  throng,  and  drawing 
from  her  girdle  a  well  polished  steel  dagger,  de- 
clared she  would  defend  Brave  and  tlie  chief  with 
her  life,  and  if  they  prevailed  by  force,  she  would 
end  her  life  with  her  own  poniard.    She  demanded 


tliat  Gatlin  sbonld  come  forth  into  her  presence  ; 
liaving  come,  she  ordered  liim  to  l>e  seated.  With 
tlie  dignity  of  a  queen  and  a  bearing  seen  only  in 
the  daughters  of  the  forest,  she  spake  as  follows  : 

"  Fox  in  council,  wolf  in  peace,  and  dog  in  war  ! 
why  have  yon  dared  to  plead  against  my  request  ? 
Your  htnds  are  stained  with  blood  and  your  lieart 
is  filled  with  poison  ;  too  mean  to  live  with  the 
meanest  of  white  men,  too  cowardly  to  meet  a  foe 
in  fair  combat,  and  too  selfish  to  feel  for  others, 
you  have  come  among  the  red  men,  to  stab  in  the 
dark,  to  waylay  your  enemies,  betray  your  friends, 
and  to  defile  the  daughters  of  Tuscarora.  The 
daughter  of  a  chief  needs  no  defence  hut  lier  fa- 
ther, when  her  own  person  is  assailed ;  the  dam- 
sels of  Deep  Spring  practice  neither  war  nor  the 
chase;  and  if  yon  are  a  warrior  good  and  true, 
the  Great  Spirit  would  be  angry  if  I  should  speak 
against  you.  But  you  are  not  a  warrior,  the  Great 
Spirit  tells  me  so;  I  feel  power  in  my  heart; 
though  but  a  weak  maiden,  I  feel  myself  like  a 
great  mountain  rock  defying  the  roaring  storm. 
I  stand  here  in  defense  of  two  noble  warriors,  and 
before  the  bright  fire  burns  reund  them,  my  arm 
shall  fall  pnd  my  heart  shall  be  still ;  if  they  this 
day  fly  from  tlie  burning  stake  to  the  tall  groves 
and  broad  streams  of  the  good,  I  shall  go  with 
them.  Remember  forever,  that  Yelna  of  Deep 
Spring  lives  for  the  good  and  dies  for  the  inno- 
cent."    When  she  ceased,  a  loud  yell  of  assent 


4:S  MARY    BAKKIOR. 

rang  over  the  hills,  and  with  Bvawe,  the  chief  and 
her  father,  she  returned  to  tlie  tent. 

Mary  Barker,  from  her  wigwam,  watched  these 
proceedings  with  an  intensity  ot*  feeling  indescri- 
bable; but  when  she  saw  the  noble  Yelna  prevail, 
a  gleam  of  hope  illumined  her  own  breast.  She 
could  but  think  the  hasty  visit  of  the  old  man 
betokened  some  good  ;  Velna  was  certainly  her 
friend,  and  Gatlin,  her  direst  foe,  was  publicly 
thwarted.  All  w^as  now  still  in  the  camp,  but 
Mary  was  unable  to  sleep;  she  feared  nothing  so 
much  as  the  appearance  of  Gatlin.  Silently  and 
softly  a  young  Indian  chief  entered  the  wigwam, 
and  held  towards  Mary  a  staff,  wdiich  she  at  once 
recognized  as  the  ])ledge  ot  the  old  man.  Mary 
hesitated  not ;  she  arose  and  followed  her  guide. 
Tonlin,  for  that  was  his  name,  placed  his  linger 
upon  his  mouth  and  pointed  to  sometliing  a  little 
off,  which  Mary  perceived  to  bo  a  sentineh  He 
then  drew  from  his  blanket  the  robe,  sandals  and 
head  dress  of  Yelna,  and  by  signs  requested  Mary 
to  put  them  on.-^  She  did  as  intimated.  Tonlin 
held  out  his  arm  that  she  should  lean  upon  it.  Thus 
going  forth  as  the  son  and  daughter  of  the  old 
chief,  they  approached  the  sentinel,  who  let  them 
pass  without  a  challenge. 

Hastening  off  in  a  nortliwest  direction,  and 
crossing  the  creek  on  a  trail-log,  Tonlin  assisted 
Mary  with  all  the  minute  attention  and  delicacy  of 
a  well  bred  geLtlcman     Tliey  had  proceeded  about 


«'.  MARY     BARKF.K.  49 

a  mile,  ^vhcii^^uarj  porccive;]  a  niiiti  shmcliiig  at  a 
little  distiiTicc  i'mm  the  pnth  along  wlvich  they  were 
moving';  :i  nearer  approach  showed  tlio  stranger 
to  be  a  white  man,  and  apparently  the  man  was 
Gatlin.  Mar3^'s  last  ray  of  Iiope  fled;  her  bright 
anticipatinns  were  doiidcd  over;  she  doubted  not 
that  the  Indian  who  was  condnctii'g.  her  was  an 
accomplice  of  her  enemy,  and  that  a  dark  purpose 
was  in  contemplation.  She  tlionght  of  home,  of 
a  hind  h.n<:band  and  of  her  own  dear  children  ;  she 
had  nearly  fillcn  with  a  desponciing  heart,  when 
Tonlin,  leaving  her  side  for  a  moment,  approached 
the  stranger,  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice  a  few 
words,  lie  returned,  and  supporting  Mary  with 
much  care,  pursued  the  silent  journey.  Gaining 
the  high  ridge  that  stands  as  a  barrier  between  the 
river  and  creek,  the  view  was  magnificent.  A 
long  plopirir  ^""dlin'd  extended  ti^wards  the  river, 
the  dec.  iied  showed  itself  as  far  to 

the  iioriliwe-t  an!  southwest  i-s  the  eye  could 
reach  ;  opposite  and  tar  off,  some  bold  hills  gave  a 
graceful  outline  to  ilie  d'st.-.nt  view.  The  deep 
roaring  of  the  river  as  it  ^^pcd  on  v/ard  ovei' light 
cascades,  the  low  snappibh  howl  of  the  wolf,  an  oc- 
casional scream  of  the  panther,  and  the  ominous 
hoot  of  the  owl,  all  conspired  in  connexion  with 
recent  oc,carrcnce3,  to  impress  Mary  with  sensa- 
tions of  approaching  danger.  But  when  was  an 
innocent  wr  ':nown   to   despair?    The 

modest,  hariiiu--  n;     ;-:i  may  pt--^^-^   rt  the  rust- 

0 


qO  MARY  BARKER.    ., 

ling  of  a  leaf,  but  let  real  clanger  arise,  and  lici' 
spirit  is  the  last  to  quake.  As  Mar)^  lifted  her  eyes 
from  the  impressively  grand  bnt  threatening  world 
below  to  the  silent  moon,  as  she  through  the  pure 
blue  vault  of  heaven  sailed  amid  the  twinkling 
stars,  her  courage  revived,  and  she  moved  on  with 
a  firmer  step.  They  had  not  advanced  far  into  the 
lowlands  before  her  Indian  guide  appeared  ap- 
prehensive of  danger  ;  he  moved  stealthily  along 
with  great  caution  ;  and  motioned  Mary  to  walk 
close  behind  him  :  gaining  the  shadow  of  a  large 
tree,  Tonlin  exchanged  robe  and  head  dress  with 
her,  so  that  she  appeared  to  be  the  Indian  and  he 
the  lady.  She  could  by  no  means  divine  the  ob- 
ject of  this  maneuvre,  yet  she  faltered  not ;  though 
some  danger  evidently  threatened,  onward  went 
this  brave  woman,  her  guide  following  close  m  the 
rear.  They  had  not  advanced  more  than  a  few 
hundred  yards,  ere  a  keen  shrill  whistle  sounded 
behind  them  ;  Tonlin  sprang  forward,  beckoned 
lier  to  stop,  and  before  he  could  unsling  his  toma- 
hawk and  raise  his  rifle,  two  powerful  Indians 
sprang  upon  hini,  and  a  powerful  voice,  in  good  . 
English,  cried  :  ''  Mary,  run  backwards  for  your 
life  !" 

But  before  she  could  even  start,  a  tall  form  swepfe 
by  her,  and  joining  in  the  tremendous  struggle; 
which  Tonlin  still  maintained,  soon  overpowered 
and  slew  the  two  Indians.  The  unknown  cham- 
pion then  said  to  Mary,  "Sit  still,  good  mother^ 


M.iKY     BARKER.  51 

till  we  return."  He  and  Tonlin  then  took  np  the 
lifeless  forms  of  their  foes,  and  departed  in  the 
direction  of  the  river.  Mrs.  Barker,  thus  left  alone, 
she  knew  not  Avhere  and  by  whom  surrounded,  re- 
mained, in  silence  ;  she  knew  not  wdiether  the 
conqnerors  were  friends  or  enemies;  she  knew  not 
but  that  eternal  dishonor  or  instant  death  awaited 
her;  bnt  with  calm  confidence  she  resigned  her 
safety  to  "  Him  who  is  able  to  save  to  the  utter- 
most." Soon  Tonlin  returned  unattended  by  his 
comrade,  and  exchanging  dress  with  her  again, 
conducted  her  towards  the  river.  They  soon  ar- 
rived at  the  river,  at  a  point  where  the  stream 
inaking  a  bold  sweep  westward,  forms  a  large 
bend ;  they  stood  for  a  moment  upon  a  bold  pro- 
montory of  rock  that  projecting  far  into  the  river, 
perhaps  originally  caused  the  curve  ;  then  descend- 
ing by  a  pathway  on  the  south  side  of  the  ledge, 
they  walked  round  its  base  upon  huge  fragments 
of  stone  untirthey  arrived  at  what  seemed  to  be 
the  mouth  of  a  cave;  advancing  in  total  darkness 
they  gro{)ed  along  until  Tonlin  tapped  something 
sounding  like  a  door.  Yery  soon  the  rude  door 
opened,  and  v/hat  was  Mary's  surprise  to  see  with- 
in a  considerable  room  or  vault  illuminated  by  a 
bark-wick  candle,  and  near  the  entrance  the  white- 
haired  old  man,  who  visited  her  in  the  wigwam! 
On  a  rough  table  of  stone  lay  a  Bible  with  two  or 
three  other  books ;  on  a  projecting  crag  hung  a 
broad-brimmed  Quaker  hat;  on  the  opposite  side, 
c2  ■ 


52  MARY     BARKEIi.  ^ 

near  soir.etiiing  like  a  fii  c-i>:uL-v;,  vv^.:;  c-  \  w  u  ui  liu  cc^ 
cookiHg-utenyili?  of  Iiitliaii  fav'^hioii.  The  (;]u  iiiUM,. 
a  band  on  each  of  then-  heads,  said^/'  My  chiMien,. 
I  feared  you  were  slain.  I  knew" an  enemy  beiset 
your  ^^ay;  and  I  sent  my  laithiui  Suniibh  to  give 
yon  timely  notice." 

Tonlin  replied  in  Indian,  so  that  Mary  knew  not 
what  he  said  ;  but  tears  streamed  down  the  old 
man's  wrinkled  face  as  he  i-eplied: 

"Tonlin,  thou  art  a  good  boy,  but  ma}'  be  thj 
resistance  has  gone  too  far.  May  an  Aliwise  Be- 
ing bloes  thee  and  guide  thy  steps." 

Tonlin,  taking  the  dress  of  his  siste-r,  the  noble' 
Yelna,  departed,  and  meeting  with  Suniish,  who 
waited  his  return,  the  b<r)y  was  dressv'd  as  an  In- 
dian iraiden,  and  the  two  entered  the  camp  with- 
out suspicion. 

So  soon  next  morning  as  Gatlin  discovered  that 
Mary  Barker  was  gone,  burning  witli  rage  '  and 
thirsting 'for  vengeance,  he  called  a  council  of 
warriors;  he  knew  not  in  tact  what  Jbecanie  of  liis 
Tietim,  hut  deterraining'^to  turn  her  absence  to  bis- 
own  advantage,  arose  and  said  : 

'^  Chief  and  warriors,  you  were  last  night  at- 
tacked by  the  Pilot  ti'ibe;. they  slew  your  brotheT& 
and  sons  and  they  csi'ried  ofi-  my  wife.  Barker, 
my  deadlj^  foe,  caused  this,;  he  is  Itjagued  witb 
them;  he  was  with  them  tet  night  ;  1  saw  hinir 
and  should  have  killed  him,  had  not  a  limb  turned 
aside  my  tomahawk.     Allow  me  then  with  these 


MARY     BARKER. 


SH 


youno'  wairiors  to  watcli.  pursue  and  kill  that  base 
dog  "  Tlio  war  council  iiuinediately  gavo  consent, 
for  the_f  were  as  mucli  surprised  as  Gatlin  ;  they 
believed  wliat  he  had  said,  and  their  creed  was, 
"  let  foe  kill  ioe.'" 

Gatlin  accordingly  departed  to  watch  round  the 
plantanoiis  of  the  white  settlers;  intending  to 
satisfy  himself  whether  or  not  Mary  had  returned, 
and  if  so,  to  eeize  her  by  force.  He  was  soon  sat- 
islied  that  she  had  not  returned  ;  he  then  contin- 
ued to  harrass  John  B:irker  by  every  possible 
means;  to  frighten  him  by  stiango  appearances, 
find  finally  to  kill  him  and  his  children.  He  was 
near  Craven  and  his  companion  at  Curtis's  branch 
as  they  returned  home,  and  in  order  to  frighten 
them,  iittererl  the  cry  they  heard  at  that  time ; 
one  of  his  w^rriois  ran  round  and  hung  a  bush  in 
the  road  near  tlie  school  house,  which  the  terriiied 
whites  thought  to  be  an  Indian  and  Mary  ;  know- 
ana:  they  had  no  loaded  arms  after  the  discharge, 
GaMin  and  an  Indian  stood  before  them  in  the 
valley,  v/hich  confirmed  t4ie  ghost. 

In  order  to  gain  an  .opportunity  to  carry  oiT  tl>e 
children,  GiP.tlin  sent  an  Indian  with  a  fire  brand 
on  a  long  ])ole,  thinking  thereby  to  draw  the  at- 
tention of  the  settlers,  while  he  should  execute  his 
purpose,  anvl  at  the  same  time  to  still  further  im- 
prcrs  tiicni  in  the  belief  of  supernatural  agency. 

Perceiving  Ids  purpose  liktdy  to  fail,  one  of  his 
foiiowers  sioaUhily  entered  the  house  and  carried 
c3 


54:  MARY     BARKER. 

off  one  cliild  in  its  sleep.     The  child  was  carried 
to  the  camp,  and  lest  it  might  escape  also,  he  kept 
it  in  his  own  tent.     Yelna  no  sooner  perceived 
this  than  she  determined  to  liberate  the  little  cap- 
tive in   spite  of  precaution  :  she  was   aware,  how- 
ever,  that  it  must   be   done  secretly   or  else  her 
purpose  w^ould  fail.     Approaching  it  one  day  "when 
Gatlin   with  the  rest   v^as  gone   to  the   chase,  she 
asked  the  little  innocent  if  it  knew  where  its  father 
and  mother   were.     It  answered  :  "  Bnggar  car- 
ried mother  away,  and  father's  at  home  !" 
"  Do  yon  want,  to  see  them  ?"  asked  Yelna, 
"  Yes,  bnt  I  can't,"  answered  the  chil  d 
"  Do  you  like  Gatlin  ?"  inquired  Yelna. 
"JSTo;  he  hurts  me,"  replied  the  harmless  little 
creature,   the    tears    beginning    to   roll   down   its 
cheeks. 

Yelna  wiped  her  own  eyes,  and  kissing  the  child. 
told  it  she  would  carry  it  to  its  mother.  She  told 
it  to  keep  awake  that  night,  and  she  would  come 
to  the  wigwam  after  a  good  while,  and  thump  with 
her  linger  ;  if  Gatlin  was  awake,  which  it  could 
tell  by  shaking  him,  it  must  neither  speak  nor 
move,  but  if  he  was  asleep,  to  get  up  easy  and 
come  out  without  speaking 

Late  at  night,  Yelna  approached  the  tent  in 
breathless  silence  and  thumped  with  her  finger  ; 
then  waited  in  an  anguish  of  uncertainty.  In  a 
minute  or  two,  the  fair  haired  child  came  forth  and 
stood  before  her  :  she  caught  it  up  in  her  arms  and 


MARY    BARKEK.  55 

hastening  away,  gave  it  to  Brave  and  Tonlin  who 
carried  it  to  the  old  man  and  its  mother  in  Aaron's 
cave. 

Gatlin  did  not  miss  the  child  till  morning,  nor 
did  he  then  speak  concerning  the  loss ;  he  suspi- 
cioned  intrigue  of  some  kind  ;  he  believed  that 
some  one  in  camp  was  the  agent  by  whom  his 
designs  were  frnstrated  ;  but  who  that  person  could 
be,  he  could  by  no  means  divine,  unless  Brave  was 
the  one.  This  belief  was  soon  lixed,  and  by  the 
reserved,  cold  intercourse  he  maintained  with  the 
white  warrior.  Yelna  readily  perceived  the  com- 
plexion of  his  thoughts.  Without  delay,  she  taxed 
her  ready  and  active  mind  to  learn  his  intentions, 
in  order  to  frustrate  them  ;  by  the  agency  of  her 
brother,  she  learned  from  one  of  Gatlin's  band, 
that  murder  was  intended,  and  that  the  chase  on 
the  following  day  was  the  time  appointed.  She 
forthwith  advised  Brave  to  depart,  justly  conceiv- 
ing that  his  services  could  no  more  be  available, 
as  he  would  be  too  closely  watched.  The  white 
chief  obeying  her  admonitions,  announced  his  in- 
tention to  depart  on  the  next  day  ;  and  in  less  than 
an  hour,  Velna  learned  from  her  faithful  spy,  that 
Gatlin  had  gone  out  with  a  chosen  band,  with  in- 
tention to  waylay  and  kill  Brave.  Velna  informed 
the  chief  of  his  danger,  and  advised  him  to  take  a 
circuitous  rout,  which  he  did,  not  through  fear  so 
much  as  policy.  Gatlin  again  frustrated,  deter- 
mined to  carry  on  his  designs  against  the  Barker 
c4    i 


56 


MARY    BARKER. 


family  to  the  uttermost ;  he  tasked  every  resource 
of  vengeance.  Pie  accordingly  made  powder  to 
blow  up  the  wood  pile  ;  he  made  a  most  terrific 
spectre  of  skins,  which  monstrous  fabrication  three 
Indians  could  carry  ;  he  then  shaped  a  block  of 
wood  and  armed  it  with  claws  in  order  to  make  a 
track  unlike  any  living  creature. 

For  the  purpose  of  torcing  credence  to  his  fiend- 
ish appearances,  he  wrote  the  letter  purporting 
to  be  from  Mary  in  heaven.  Then  placing  the 
powder  under  the  wood,  and  having  all  other  mat- 
ters properly  arranged,  he  played  the  part  spoken 
of  in  a  former  number.  The  children  which  were 
seized  at  the  door,  were  carried  to  the  camp  as  the 
former  one,  and  placed  in  Gatlin's  wigwam.  These 
were  taken  from  him  and  carried  to  Aaron's  cave, 
in  the  same  manner  as  the  first  had  been.  Gatlin's 
wrath  was  now  at  the  highest ;  he  determined 
therefore  to  seize  Barker  himself,  carry  him  to  the 
camp  and  have  him  executed  immediately.  With 
three  chosen  companions,  he  went  to  John  Barker's 
a  little  after  night,  and  peeped  through  a  crack  to 
see  with  what  the  lonely  inmate  might  occupy 
himself  Barker  at  the  time  was  reading  from  a 
large  Bible,  with  a  loud  tone  in  the  manner  of  the 
Friends  ;  he  finished  the  chapter  and  leaning  his 
head  upon  his  hands,  indulged  the  following  solilo- 
quy :  "  Once  around  this  hearthstone  I  was  happy  ; 
my  Mary  and  my  children  were  with  me  ;  they 
loved  me  and  soothed  my  sorrow ;  they  pitied  my 


MARY     BARKER  67  - 

distress  and  cared  for  my  sufferings.  The  Lord  ' 
hath  sorely  cliastened  me ;  he  hath  taken  from  me 
all  earthly  comfort;  I  have  surely  drunk  the  enp 
of  sorrow,  and  mournitig  shall  finish  my  days.  If 
I  have  knowingly  injured  any  man,  I  am  ready  to 
restore  fourfold.     May  the  Lord's  will  be  done." 

"  Yon  are  a  base  scoundrel  and  liar,"  said  Gatlin, 
rushing  into  the  house  with  his  comrades  ;  "  I  am 
come  to  drag  you  to  justice." 

"  Thee  speaks  harshly,"  returned  Barker  nothing 
daunted :  "  Surely  I  see  W.  Gatlin,  an  old  friend 
of  mine,  and  right  glad  am  I  to  find  in  this  forsaken 
house,  one  true  as  thee  is.  Thyself  and  these,  I 
suppose  thy  guides,  I  bid  welcome,  and  hope  we 
may  have  mutual  comfort."  "  You  are  a  bigoted 
hypocrite,"  returned  Gatlin ;  you  are  a  liar,  thief 
and  ranting  fool ;  to  night  you  die  !  seize  him  !  my 
friends." 

Barker  waved  thera  off  with  his  hands,  and  with 
a  look  such  as  comes  only  from  a  good  man's  eye, 
then  meekly  said  : 

*' These  charges  I  understand  not ;  thee  knows, 
W.  Gatlin,  I  have  always  been  an  honest  man;  I 
have  neither  touched  the  person  nor  goods  of  any 
man,  and  in  the  manner  of  my  sect,  T  have  tried 

to  servo  my  maker."     '*  Your  sect,  the ! 

sneered  Gatlin  ;  warriors,  I  say  seize  him." 

The  rude  sons  of  the  .forest  still  hesitated;  the 
man  was  so  meek,  so  cairn  and  so  peaceful  in  the 
panoply  of  virtue,  that  they  refused  to  touch  him. 
c5 


68  MARY    BARKER. 

Gatlin,  stamping  violently  on  the  floor,  ordered 
them  to  cut  him  to  pieces,  and  as  they  moved  not 
at  this  command,  he  raised  his  own  tomahawk, 
hat  ere  it  flew  to  perform  the  bloody  deed,  some 
one  caught  his  arm  saying  "  hold,  not  so  yet ;"  and 
the  noble  Tonlin  was  in  the  midst.  Gatlin  glared 
upon  him  with  the  fury  of  a  tiger ;  and  with  a 
husky  voice  said  : 

"  Warrior,  what  do  you  here,  why  have  you  fol- 
lowed me,  and  how  dare  you  stop  my  arm  ?" 

By  this  time  Tonlin  stood  by  the  side  of  Barker 
and  boldly  replied  : 

"The  chief's  son  goes  where  he  will,  and  com- 
mands Gatlin  at  this  time  to  do  our  white  brother 
no  hurt."  .m  tun  v 

"  Proud  strippling,"  retorted  his  opponent,  "you 
crow  not  over  me;  instantly  leave  this' place  or 
you  die  as  you  deserve  !" 

"  I  leave  not,"  said  Tonlin,  "  till  we  all  go  toge- 
ther, and  think  not  to  assume  too  much  authority." 

Gatlin  stepped  back  and  whispered  to  his  com- 
rades ;  Tonlin  perceived  they  were  about  to  attack 
him,  but  before  they  had  time  to  advance,  he  drew 
from  his  blanket  the  great  war-head  dress  of  his 
father  and  placed  it  upon  his  head  ;  before  this 
well  known  emblem  of  authority,  the  comrades  of 
Gatlin  recoiled,  and  perceiving  the  odds  would  be 
against  him,  he  smothered  his  resentment,  and  de- 
manded that  Barker  should  be  led  before  the  war 
council. 


54  ART    BARKER.  59 

Tonlin  whispered  a  word  to  Barker,  and  imme- 
diately all  of  them  started  to  the  springs.  Accord- 
ing to  usage  and  by  command  of  Gatlin,  Barker's 
arms  were  bound  with  a  bark-rope,  passing  from 
one  elbow  to  the  other.  The  river  was  to  be  crossed 
in  a  canoe  at  a  point  where  the  water  was  very 
deep  ;  as  they  were  stepping  into  the  unsteady 
trotigli,  for  Indian  canoes  wero  hollowed  trees, 
Tonlin,  who  warily  watched  every  motion,  saw 
Gatlin  and  his  comrades  unsiing  their  arms  and 
unite  their  blankets.  He  was  aware  that  this  ma- 
neuvre  boded  some  evil,  but  ihe  knew  not  what ; 
he  therefore  seated  himself  by  the  side  of  Barker, 
at  the  same  time  slipping  his  hunting  knife  from 
his  belt ;  he  held  it  in  his  right  hand.  About  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  the  steersman  dropped  from 
the  gtern  of  the  canoe  into  the  wate.r,  then  seizing 
the  side  as  if  endeavoring  to  climb  in,  he  quickly 
overset  it.  Tonlin  at  once  saw  that  the  intention 
was  to  drown  himself  and  Barker  ;  as  they  struck 
the  water,  by  a  skilful  thrust  with  his  knife,  he  cut 
the  chord  that  bound  Barker's  arms,  and  both,  be- 
ing good  swimmers,  reached  the  bank  before  either 
Gatlin  or  his  crew  could  overtake  them.  When 
the  wretch  came  to  land  he  apologised  with  appa- 
rent sincerity  for  the  accident,  and  threatened  the 
steersman  with  punishment ;  Tonlin  affected  to 
believe  it  an  accident  and  accepted  the  apology. 

So  soon  as  they  reached  the  camp,  a  council  was 
called,  and  as  Barker  was  accused  of  the  greatest 
c6 


60  MARY    BARKER. 

crimes,  and  no  one  plead  his  cause  or  bore  testi- 
mony in  his  favor,  he  was  qnickly  condemned, 
GaUin  demaded  that  he  should  be  burned  in  an 
hour,  and  after  some  hesitation  the  council  assented. 
Barker  was  about  to  speak,  when  Yelna  came  forth 
and  motioned  him  to  silence  ;  she  was  arrayed  in 
the  full  dress  of  a  chief's  daughter,  and  bore  in 
ber  hand  the  wand  of  peace  ;  mildly  but  tirmly  she 
spake  : 

''Great  chief,  and  brave  warriors;  the  white 
man  has  always  given  bad  counsel ;  well  you  know 
that  no  man  must  die  according  to  the  law  of  our 
fathers,  till  another  moon.  The  great  spirit  looks 
upon  the  pale  face  as  well  as  the  red  man,  and  will 
not  allow  noble  chiefs  to  do  wrong.  -Six  suns  must 
pass  by,  before  our  white  brother  dies." 

The  council  confessed  that  Yelna  had  spoken 
truth,  and  deferred  the  execution  for  six  days ; 
meanwhile  Tonlin  pledged  his  wampum  belt  for 
the  safe  custody  of  Barker. 

We  leave  John  Barker  till  the  day  of  trial,  and 
return  to  Aaron's  cave.  On  the  night  aforesaid, 
when  Tonlin  had  retired,  the  old  man  seated  him- 
self by  the  side  of  Mary,  and  with  much  kindness 


"Friend,  I  pity  thy  distress  and  feel  for  thy  sor- 
rows 'y  tell  me  who  thou  art,  and  how  thou  came 
to  the  springs." 

"My  name  is  Mary  Barker,"  she  replied,  "the 
wife  of  John  Barker;  we  came  from  Pennsylvania 


MARY     BARKER.  CI 

and  settled  somewhere  in  this  country,  and  by  de- 
ceit one  W,  Gatlin  took  me  to  the  springs." 

"What  was  thy  father's  name?"  inquired  he 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  hesitancy  in  his  voice. 

Mary  answered  ;  "  his  name  was  Aaron  Moffitt." 

'*  Didst  tliou  leave  him  alive?"  inquired  the 
venerable  man. 

*'  No,"  rieplied  Mary,  "  many  years  ago,  wicked 
men  conspired  against  him  because  lie  was  a  good 
man,  and  coming  to  our  house  in  the  night,  tliey 
tore  him  from  his  bed,  carried  him  off  and  killed 
him." 

The  old  man  after  a  moment  replied  ;  "  Wouldst 
thou  know  thy  father,  though  changed  by  age  and 
affection  ?" 

*'I  should  know  him  anywhere,"  replied  Mary, 
"  a  plain  scar  on  liis  face,  if  nothing  else  would  be 
proof  enough." 

"  I  am,"  answered  he,  "  Aaron  Moffit  thy  father," 
at  the  same  time  exhibiting  the  scar  on  his  face. 
We  make  no  attempt  to  describe  their  recognition, 
or  the  conflicting  emotions  that  followed,  they  may 
be  better  imagined  than  described. 

The  next  day  Moffitt  narrated  to  his  daughter 
his  adventures  after  he  was  dragged  from  his  house  : 
"  My  enemies  intended  to  kill  me  not  a  mile  from 
home,  but  before  tliey  j^roceeded  that  far,  they 
met  a  band  of  Indians  who  bought  me  for  a  war 
victim  at  an  approaching  festival.  For  three  days, 
I  was    compelled  to   walk  at  a  rapid  rate  between 


62  MARY    BARKER. 

two  stout  warriors  ;  on  the  fourth,  we  arrived  at 
the  great  camp,  when  I  was  eyed  with  no  less 
curiosity  than  pleasure.  When  the  great  day  ar- 
rived, and  all  the  tribes  had  assembled  to  honor 
the  great  spirit  of  the  Western  Avaters,  according 
to  usage,  if  any  captive  was  in  their  possession,  he 
must  first  be  burned.  As  I  was  the  only  one,  I 
was  fixed  to  a  stake  and  the  brusb'i  wood  piled 
around  me ;  then  came  forw^ard  the  oldest  chief 
to  pronounce  my  doom." 

"  White  man,  said  he,  you  came  in  power  from 
the  rising  sun  ;  you  off'ered  peace  to  our  chiefs, 
.arms  to  our  warriors  and  bread  to  our  children  ; 
•none  of  these  have  you  done.  You  told  us  lies, 
cheated  us  in  trade,  sold  us  fire-water,  and  dug  up 
the  tree  of  peace.  The  thundering  ot  the  great 
spirit,  the  roaring  of  streams,  the  howling  storms, 
groaning  trees,  and  rumbling  earth,  all  call  with  a 
deep  and  revengeful  wrath  for  your  destruction." 

I  knew  pleading  was  in  vain,  and  said  nothing ; 
but  as  the  chief  turned  away,  he  discovered  this 
scar  on  my  face,  and  asked  how  it  came  there.  1 
told  him  I  received  it  in  defending  an  Indian  at 
Tolland,  and  by  that  means  saved  his  life.  "  Ugh — 
sogger,"  murmured  the  chief,  '  J  know  you  well, 
your  name  is  Mofia  ;  you  saved  .the  life  of  my  son." 
He  then  ordered  ine  to  be  unbound,  and  lead  to 
his  w^igwam,  and  thus  you  perceive,  my  child,  this 
good  deed  long  sinoe  done,  saved  me  from  a  horrid 
4eath  and  the  bloody  hand  of  murderers.     After 


MARY    BAKKER.  63 

supplying  ray  wants,  and  allowing  me  time  to 
refresh  myself,  be  dismissed  me  to  seek  my  friends 
and  home.  But  alas  !  I  knew  what  awaited  me 
should  I  ever  return  ;  I  therefore  traveled  onward, 
1  knew  not  where.  In  the  midst  of  my  uncertain 
wanderings,  I  chanced  upon  one  occasion  to  be 
standing  near  this  very  place  when  I  saw  two  In- 
dian children,  a  boy  and  a  girl,  attempting  to  cross 
the  river  ;  when  they  were  near  the  middle  of  the 
stream,  the  little  girl  slipped  from  a  rock  and  fell 
into  a  strong  current;  the  boy  fearlessly  leaped 
into  the  foaming  waters  to  rescue  his  sister,  and 
after  making  eftbrts  worthy  of  a  man,  he  raised  her 
head  above  the  waters,  but  he  was  unable  to  ad- 
vance or  even  to  maintain  his  position.  At  the 
minute  they  were  both  sinking,  a  powerful  wolf 
dog  that  had  accompanied  them  in  their  expedi- 
tion, but  had  loitered  behind,  plunged  in  after 
them ;  before  he  could  reach  them,  they  had  both 
sunk,  but  instantly  diving,  he  brought  them  up 
and  started  to  the  bank.  The  children  were  too 
much  exhausted  to  hold  together,  and  the  noble 
dog  was  unable  to  grasp  them  both  ;  the  little  girl 
floated  away  from  him^varid  uttering  a  loud  howl 
of  despair,  he  started  to  the  bank  with  the  boy  ; 
perceiving  that  the  dog  would  safely  land  the  boy, 
and  knowing  that  the  girl  would  speedily  drown, 
I  plunired  in  after  her  at  the  peril  of  my  own  life. 
Though  aged  and  feeble,  I  rescued  her,  and  after 
hours  of  nursini^  in   this  very   cave,  I  so    restored 


64:  MARY    BARKER. 

them  that  they  were  able  to  go  home.  That  boy 
was  Tonhn  and  that  gh'l  was  Velna.  From  that 
day  to  this,  I  have  remained  here,  unknown  to  all, 
except  these  two  children,  Sunfish  and  the  old 
chief;  they  have  supplied  me  with  food  and  I 
have  taught  them  much  of  our  language.  Last 
night  when  Yelna  heard  thy  report  she  believed 
it,  and  forthwith  sent  Tonlin  to  inform  me  of  thy 
presence  in  the  camp,  requesting  me  to  come  and 
give  thee  such  assurance,  that  thou  mighest  with- 
out fear  accompany  Tonlin,  when  he  should  find 
occasion  to  lead  thee  forth.  But  thy  deliverance 
was  well  nigh  frustrated  by  the  attack  of  this  pow- 
erful tribe,  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  white  chief, 
Brave,  our  tribe  would  have  been  conqueied.  He 
had  already  retired  from  the  ranks  when  I  met 
him ;  he  was  surprised  to  see  me,  but  when  I  told 
him  that  a  suffering  white  woman  was  in  the 
second  tent,  and  that  Gatlin  had  brought  on  this 
attack  in  order  that  the  Spring  tribe  might  be  con- 
quered, so  that  he  could  then  obtain  Yelna,  the 
chiefs  daughter ;  that  noble  chief  waited  'for  no 
more,  but  with  a  resolution  and  power  never  sur- 
passed by  mortal  man,  he  drove  every  thing  before 
him. 

When  I  came  back,  I  placed  Sunfish  out  to 
watch,  and  in  less  than  an  hour,  he  returned  and 
informed  me,  that  two  Indians  came  down  to  the 
river,  and  after  remaining  awhile  went  back. 
Having  no  doubt  these  were  spies  sent  out  by 


MART     BARKER.  65 

Gatlin,  for  I  thought  he  saw  me  when  I  was  at  the 
camp,  I  sent  Siinlish  round  in  another  way  to  in- 
form Tonlin  and  Brave  that  spies  were  out.  The 
man  you  saw  on  the  hill  was  Brave,  who  came 
before  yon  to  reconnoitre  ;  it  was  he  that  gave  the 
whistle  and  cried  out  for  you  to  run  back." 

Mary  and  her  Father  remained  for  some  time 
in  this  cave  supported  by  Tonlin  and  Velna,  and 
as  the  children  were  successively  stolen  away  from 
Gatlin  they  were  sent  to  their  mother  and  grand- 
father. Yelna  determined  that  Gatlin  should  be 
condemned  in  public  council,  and  to  effect  this 
much  maneuvering  was  necessary,  as  well  as  a 
great  deal  of  caution.  Gatlin  constantly  atiirmed, 
that  Mary  was  his  wife,  and  that  Barker  had  now 
stolen  her  a  second  time  and  married  her  ;  he  also 
declared  that  a  young  chief  who  had  been  missing 
for  some  time,  was  slain  by  the  same  means.  The 
time  fixed  upon  for  overwhelming  Gatlin,  was  that 
on  which  Barker  was  to  be  burned  ;  one  difficulty 
Btill  remained,  and  that  was  to  prove  to  the  great 
council,  that  Mary  was  really  John  Barker's  wife, 
and  as  yet  they  had  no  means  to  effect  this.  Finally 
Mary  thought  of  young  Spinks,  who  knew  the 
whole  matter,  and  Tonlin  undertook  to  find  him 
out  and  bring  him  to  Aaron's  cave.  This  he  effect- 
ed after  several  days'  watching,  and  then  by  a 
messenger  informed  Brave  at  Hickory  mountain, 
of  the  time.  One  important  point  still  remained 
to  complete  the  arrangements,  viz  ;  to  obtain  proof 


6Q  MAKY     BARKER. 

from  the  Pilot  tribe,  that  Gatlin  instigated  that 
assault.  The  noble  Tonlin  took  that  mission  upon 
himself,  and  with  infinite,  difficulty,  succeeded  in 
bringing  over  a  chief,  whose  assertion  could  not 
be  doubted. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  Barker's  execution 
great  preparations  were  made,  according  to  Indian 
custom,  for  display  and  torture  ;  a  high  stake  was 
erected  in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  and  a  large  ring 
of  brushwood  so  formed,  that  the  victim  might  die 
by  the  heat  rather  than  the  flames.  Barker  was 
led  forth  in  the  midst  of  yells,  hisses  and  every 
kind  of  insult,  and  slowly  but  firmly  took  his  posi- 
tion of  death  ;  after  he  was  fastened,  Gatlin  asked 
and  obtained  permission  to  take  ofi"  his  lower  limbs 
joint  by  joint  to  the  knee. 

As  he  stepped  forth  to  accomplish  his  bloody- 
purpose,  Velna  appeared,  unlike  all  other  Indian 
maidens,  arrayed  in  a  most  superbly  ornamented 
dress,  with  the  wedding  feather  in  her  hair;  every 
one  was  mute  with  astonishment,  while  many  look- 
ed with  evident  discontent.  Bowing  to  the  grand 
council,  she  called  upon  Gatlin  to  stop ;  but  deter- 
mined to  execute  his  design  he  heeded  her  not,  and 
had  already  taken  Barker  by  the  foot.  Yelna 
drew  from  her  robe  the  great  eagle  signal,  rushing 
forward  with  twenty  warriors  at  her  side,  (for  that 
number  was  compelled  to  follow  the  noble  virgin 
upon  the  appearance  of  that  signal,)  she  arrested 


MART     BARKER.  ^ 

Gatlin's  hand,  and  bid  him  stand  back.  Maddened 
to  desperation,  he  was  about  to  slay  even  the 
chikf's  daughter,  but  the  warriors  closed  aronnd 
her  crying,  '*  wans  a  Yklna  " — spare  Yelna.  She 
then  appealed  to  the  council,  and  moving  respect- 
fnlly  forward,  declared  herseif  able  to  prove  that 
Barker  had  not  killed  Mary  and  the  children.  Gat- 
lin  defied  her  to  do  it.  Raisinor  her  whistle,  she 
gave  a  sharp  call,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Mary  ap- 
peared with  her  children.  The  Indians  were  con- 
founded, and  Gatlin  frothed  with  rage.  The  conn- 
cil  waited  till  the  affecting  ecene  of  the  family 
meeting  had  somewhat  snbsidtid,  and  then  de- 
manded what  more  Velna  had  to  say.  She  then 
declared  that  Barker  did  not  steal  them  away  ;  this 
Gatlin  again  defied  her  to  prove.  Yelna  and  Ton- 
lin  affirmed  the  part  they  had  acted,  but  Gatlin 
refused  for  their  evidence  to  be  taken  ;  another 
shrill  call  and  Brave  .with  twelve  powerful  war- 
riors, came  up  and  affiimed  upon  his  wampum  belt, 
that  he  had  assisted.  The  old  chief  of  the  Sprmgs 
declared  no  warrior  must  dare  question  the  word 
of  Brave.  Yelna  then  offered  to  prove  that  Mary 
was  Barker's  wife,  and  by  another  whistle  called 
np  Spinks  and  Aaron  ]\[ofiitt,  the  gray  old  man. 
Their  evidence  settled  that  question  beyond  all  dis- 
pute. Yelna  next  declared  that  Gatlin  had  insti- 
gated the  assault  made  by  the  Pilot  tribe  to  prove 
which,  the  chief  of  that  tribe  was  produced.     Ton- 


68  MARY    BARKER. 

lin  and  Yelna  related  all  their  proceedingg,  while 
the  whole  assembly  listened  in  astonishment.  The 
chief  was  greatly  affected  and  asked  his  council 
how  he  ought  to  proceed ;  all  the  warriors  answer- 
ed that  the  wh*»le  affair  should  be  disposed  of  as 
Velna  desired. 

"  Then,"  said  Yelna,  ^'  let  us  feast  Barker  and 
all  his  family  for  six  suns,  and  afterwards  send  them 
home  with  the  belt  of  peace,  and  once  every  moon 
I  will  go  to  see  them  ;  Gatlin  I  leave  to  my  war- 
riors ;  as  for  Brave  my  father  will  honor  him." 

Instantly  the  warriors  bound  Gatlin,  and  tied 
him  at  the  stake  he  had  prepared  for  Barker ;  the 
chief  then  turning  to  Brave,  bid  him  ask  any  favor 
and  it  should  be  granted.  "I  ask  a  great  boon," 
resjDonded  the  white  chief,  "in  a  few  words." 
''  Give  me  the  noble  Velna."  The  old  chief  seemed 
a  little  confused,  and  asked  Brave  for  what  reason, 
he  demanded  a  chief's  daughter. 

"Because,"  said  Brave,  "I  am  a  chief;  I  love 
Yelna  and  Yelna  loves  me ;  I  saved  her  life  on 
that  night  of  the  Pilot  charge,  and  I  absisted  her 
in  saving  a  good  family."  "  The  great  Spirit  wills 
Brave  to  be  my  son,"  responded  the  chief,  and 
joined  their  hands. 

When  the  week  of  feasting  was  over,  the  Barker 
family,  Spinks,  and  the  venerable  Aaron  MofUtt, 
were  escorted  to  the  white  settlement,  and  a  treaty 
made  which  was  never  broken.     Once  per  month. 


MARY     BARKER. 


69 


liraye  and  Yelna  visited  Barker,  nor  was  this 
Irieiidly  interrourse  ever  bn^ken  off  while  the  par- 
ties lived.  Many  years  after  a  son  of  Brave  re- 
turned from  the  far  west  to  see  the  descendants  of 
his  father's  friends,  and  a  worthy  son  was  he  of  his 
noMe  siro. 


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